Puck, Anonymous
by xxcullen1309xx
Summary: What if Puck was the one who called up Kurt's dad? When Puck finds out this was the reason Kurt lost the diva-off, naturally he feels guilty, so what can he do to make it up to him? And will Kurt ever find out? Eventual Kurt/Puck, rated T just in case...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or anything, but I used the exact dialogue between Kurt and his father straight out of the episode, to try and stay true to the story up to that point where my imagination takes over ;) Hope this is allowed...**

**Anyways hope you enjoy, review if you like :)**

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**Chapter 1**

"Your son's a fag."

The line went dead.

Karofsky laughed harshly, slapping Puck on the back.

"Knew you'd do it," he said, smirking approvingly. Puck laughed without humour, the bitter taste of guilt starting to burn his throat.

"Yeah, well, I always end up doing what you tell me, don't I, Karofsky?" Puck grimaced, looking away.

"Dude," Karofsky punched his arm, "what is _up_ with you? Do you really think he's going find out it was you? And even if he does, do you think anyone's gonna care? So you called his son a fag – so does everyone else in this cow town! Man up a little, Puck."

"Hey, I'm man enough, Karofsky," Puck spat his name out, eyes tight, "it's just... I'm not down with this anymore. Sure, I'll chuck kids into dumpsters or whatever, but this is going too far. I'm out."

Puck threw his hands up in resignation, starting to walk away.

"Go ahead, Puck," Karofsky called after him, "go choose your Gay Club over your real friends, then. Fag."

Puck grimaced, shoving his hands deep into his pockets to stop himself from going to punch the sneer off Karofsky's face. He kept on walking.

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Mercedes' cell phone buzzed in her pocket as she reached her front door. She frowned slightly, trying to fit the key in the lock whilst flipping open her cell. It was from Kurt.

_hey gurl ;) was just in the choir room and... i hit the high F! haha totally gonna own Berry at the diva-off tomorrow :P CANNOT WAITT! off to tell dad right now call me later yeah? loveee xx_

Mercedes smiled to herself, relishing the thought of Rachel's face as she lost the sing-off to a boy who can sing higher than her. Dumping her bag in the hall, she quickly tapped in her reply.

_ahh well done babe! i know youll be amazing tomorrow... cant wait to see her face! yess ill call you around 7ish... i need to know what youre gonna wear! ;) M xxxx_

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"Hey, Dad!" Kurt came bouncing into his father's garage, his face beaming.

"What the hell is wrong with this machine?" Burt slammed a jug into the coffee machine angrily. Kurt took no notice, still smiling.

"I hit it – the high F! The magical note I need for Defying Gravity. I hit it! It means I'm gonna win," he gushed, trying to get his Dad's attention.

"That's great," Burt sounded distracted, "good for you. Just how long until the damn coffee's ready?"

Kurt frowned.

"What's going on?"

"I got a phone call this morning. The anonymous kind. It was some dude telling me my son was a fag," Burt grimaced.

"Oh," Kurt replied in a small voice, "well, that's not a big deal. I get that all the time."

"Yeah, but I don't," Burt interjected angrily, "now look, Kurt. I try to do right by you. You know, open some doors. What father wouldn't do that for his kid? And I know it's good for you... to be out there with – with all this Glee Club stuff but I just..." Burt seemed close to tears, "I don't want you to get hurt."

Kurt nodded, face falling.

"So you don't want me to audition for the solo," it wasn't a question, although he already knew the answer.

"No, no. Let me be clear, all right? No-one pushes the Hummels around, especially cowards on the phone," Burt shook his head, eyebrows creasing together, "sometimes... I just – I wish your mom was still around, you know? She was better at... you know, handling this kind of thing. You know, handling me."

Kurt gave a small nod, a lump in his throat.

"Look," Burt continued, trying to get it together, "congrats on, uh... you know, the cool A, or the high C or, you know, whatever it was."

"High F," Kurt corrected sadly.

"Yeah," Burt nodded, taking one last look at his son before continuing on into the depths of his garage.

Kurt sighed weakly, his breath shuddering. He closed his eyes, letting a lone tear trail down his pale cheek.

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Rring-rring...

Rring-rring...

Rring-rring...

Mercedes frowned as the phone rang on and on with no sign of an answer from Kurt. This was now the fourth time she had called; she was starting to worry about her best friend.

She pressed the reject key, listening to the dial tone echo through the handset.

She sighed, setting her cell down on the desk in front of her and putting her head in her hands. He'd seemed so excited earlier, what could have happened in that short time?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own Wicked either...  
So I'm not too happy with this chapter because, as pointed out in reviews from last chapter, I'm basically just telling the story we've all seen before... So now I have this one out of the way, it should get a bit more interesting for you guys :) Hope you enjoy the chapter anyway, I promise it will get better! Review you want to :)**

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**Chapter 2**

Kurt woke suddenly to the crude sound of his alarm. He shut it off quickly and rubbed his tired eyes. He'd lain awake for what seemed like an age last night, thinking through the day's events and contemplating what he would inevitably have to do today in the sing-off.

He was going to have to blow the note – it wouldn't be as if he hadn't tried... it would just seem as if he hadn't quite had enough practice, or just wasn't right for the song. No-one would suspect a thing.

Well, he thought guiltily, Mercedes would suspect something.

Kurt's stomach twisted with chagrin as he remembered how he had let Mercedes' four phone calls ring on and on. He knew she'd be worried, but he couldn't bring himself to explain the hurt he'd seen in his Dad's eyes, or the decision he would have to make because of that hurt.

Kurt sighed, slowly getting out of bed and starting his morning routine.

He'd chosen his favourite Alexander McQueen striped jumper to wear for the big event today – it was the height of fashion, of course, but Kurt chose it mainly for sentimental reasons. The soft fibres clung gently to his skin, a familiar, pleasant sensation he knew he could count on to comfort him when he butchered his favourite song later on.

"Good luck today, Kurt," Burt nodded at him as he ascended the stairs from the basement; his father was frying an egg in an excessively-oiled pan. Kurt looked at the fatty breakfast in disgust, before uttering a small "thanks," and pulling some wholegrain cereal out of the cupboard.

Kurt chewed the flakes slowly, trying to swallow, but they turned to cardboard in his mouth. He frowned, his stomach turning as he realised he really wasn't up for food today. He dumped the remains of the cereal in the sink and made a run for it before Burt could comment on his lack of appetite.

"Ok, bye Dad," he said quickly, dashing out the door.

The day went by in pretty much its usual fashion; the only difference being that Kurt was met not only by the accusatory glares of the jocks, but also of Mercedes, as soon as he pulled into the parking lot. He groaned internally before putting on a falsely wide smile and going to meet her, ignoring the idiots shouting obscenities at him.

"Hey!" Kurt forced the bright greeting out to his best friend.

"Kurt?" Mercedes' face was like thunder as she stormed towards him, "I called you FOUR TIMES last night. What happened to you?"

"Ah, I'm so sorry," Kurt arranged his face to look apologetic, "my phone died..."

Mercedes didn't look impressed.

"Really, Kurt? I can tell when you're lying, you know. You were trying to avoid me last night! Now, tell me what's up," her face softened, and she put a comforting hand on Kurt's shoulder. He felt his facade slipping; his bright smile fading into a look of deep sadness.

"No, it's ok," he whispered, "you'll find out later. I- I just don't want to talk about it right now... 'kay?"

Mercedes' eyebrows knitted together and her lip started to pout, "But... Kurt?"

He shook his head infinitesimally, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath, and walked away.

Kurt sat in Spanish, watching the clock tick round to 3 o'clock. He had managed to avoid Mercedes for most of the day, escaping her confused and worried eyes whenever he could. Lunch had been hard; he'd ended up sitting between Artie and Tina, and not saying a word to either of them. He hoped to goodness they just assumed he was nervous about the diva-off at the end of the day.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Rrrrrring!

Kurt's stomach flipped wildly as the bell signalled it was time. He packed his stuff up and made for the choir room, looking as confident as he could, trying hard not to let any cracks form in his performance. That was, until the last note...

"Alright Kurt, you can go first," Mr Schue gestured to Kurt, who smiled in superiority in Rachel's direction, despite feeling sick to his stomach. He saw Mercedes nod and smile in encouragement, and felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over him. But he couldn't think about that now.

Kurt heard the familiar chords on the piano, and settled into the rhythm of the song. It was going well, he thought, in fact this was probably the best he'd ever sung.

_I'm through accepting limits,  
'Cause someone says they're so_

The lyrics struck a chord with him. It would be a shame to mess it up when it was going so well, wouldn't it? Maybe... maybe he didn't have to! Kurt's confidence soared as he realised that possibility; he began to sing stronger and with more emotion than he ever had before. His nerves tingled and buzzed as reached the end of the song; I'm going to win this, he thought to himself.

_I think I'll try defying gravity_

Kurt's chest was bursting with excitement, but at that exact moment, his father's tearful, worried face swam in front of his eyes.

_And you won't bring me down!_

The duff note rang harshly through the choir room, surprising even Kurt. The song died away and Kurt bit his lip, avoiding the confused and questioning gazes of the Glee Club. Mr Schue clapped quietly, looking resigned.

"Alright, well done, Kurt," he said comfortingly.

Kurt took his seat in daze, not quite believing what had just happened. Rachel bounced past him, a smug smile on her face and began to sing, but Kurt was so wrapped up in his emotions, he hardly heard a note.

Mercedes squeezed his hand while he stared at the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

**So I'm a little happier with this chapter, cos its starting to get into the story a bit more now. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy and review if you feel like it :)**

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**Chapter 3**

Puck swung his locker door open with more vigour than really necessary; it bounced back and nearly hit him in the face, adding to his annoyance. He couldn't believe Rachel had just gotten _another_ solo. Yeah, she was good and all that, but she was so... so... _irritating._

He shook his head, grabbing books from random subjects that he might have homework for and stuffing them in his backpack. It wasn't like he'd do the work, anyway.

He frowned to himself. It was weird: he really thought Hummel would get that solo. He'd sounded awesome, and though he didn't really know much about what the judges wanted, he thought a guy singing a girl's song would be something different. They probably heard _a lot_ of Rachels...

But whatever, he thought, if Kurt couldn't cut it with those high notes, then obviously Mr Schue wasn't going to choose him.

That sure sucked.

Puck went to slam his locker shut, but looked up as he heard voices coming down the corridor behind him.

"Ok, in here," Kurt sniffled, gesturing to the girl's bathroom. Mercedes held open the door for him, as he wiped away his tears.

Puck frowned, shocked at the look of intense sadness on Kurt's face; he'd never seen the smaller boy show any weakness before, even, Puck thought with a pang of guilt, when Puck tossed him in the dumpster multiple times a day.

Now let's get this straight. Noah Puckerman was in no way going soft – he was still the most bad-assed teenager in all of Lima: he still liked to burn stuff and throw freshmen in dumpsters, but with a certain Kurt Hummel, it was a little different. Mr Schue always said Glee was about being who you are, and acceptance or whatever, so Puck decided that he wasn't gonna change who he was, but maybe he could lay off Kurt and the homophobia for awhile. The truth was, Kurt fascinated him a little bit: Puck always pondered the fact that Kurt was like a girl trapped in a guy's body, what with all the expensive clothes and hair products, but then he also played football like a pro... which was confusing. Not that Puck spent _that_ much time thinking of him.

Of course not.

So, when Kurt passed him with tears dribbling down his face, Puck was curious to say the least. The door to the girl's bathroom swung closed, cutting off any possibility Puck might have of eavesdropping.

"Aw, man," he said under his breath, before looking shiftily down the corridor, hoping no-one was around to judge him. When he saw the coast was clear, he opened the bathroom door just a crack and leant his ear against the doorframe.

"Bingo," Puck smiled to himself as he heard the two voices float around the corner to where he stood.

"Ok, b-but Mercedes, you can't tell anyone," Kurt's voice was thick with tears, "it's not even a big deal... it's just- my Dad... my Dad was so upset."

Puck froze minutely. Kurt's Dad? An icy fear started to settle in his stomach.

"What happened, Kurt?" Mercedes posed a good question. Hmm... What could someone have done to make Burt Hummel so upset? Oh, maybe they called his son a fag, or something? Yeah... that might be it. Puck mentally kicked himself. _Idiot._

"Umm... yesterday, my Dad got a- a phone call... About me," Kurt forced out.

Puck groaned – this was not seriously happening, was it?

"What did they say?" Mercedes gasped.

"It's nothing I haven't heard a thousand times before," Kurt sighed, "but they thought it would be wise to inform him that I... that I was a f- fag."

It hurt more when Kurt said it, Puck thought to himself bitterly.

"And so... that's why I made the decision... t- to blow the note. I let Rachel win. I- I'd rather her sing the solo at Regionals, because... because then my Dad won't have to deal with all the... ridicule and judgement that I know would come with me publicly singing a girl's song. I... I guess he just doesn't want me to get hurt," Kurt sounded resigned.

Puck's stomach dropped; the ice returned to his veins. Could he be a worse person right now? He'd just ruined Kurt's dreams of singing his favourite song amazingly well in front of a packed-out crowd. Puck felt himself redden in embarrassment and guilt. What was he supposed to do now?

"Puck?" A sudden voice from behind him made Puck jump so much he hit his head on the doorframe.

"Oww!" he cursed, rubbing his forehead.

"What are you doing in the girl's bathroom?" Mr Schue half-smiled, looking confused.

"Uhh..." Puck's face went blank. Come on, he urged himself, think of something believable now...

"Um... Quinn just... I- I was just... waiting. Y-yeah..." That was lame, Puck. Good job!

"Well, you don't need to wait for Quinn that close to the door, do you Puck?" Mr Schue laughed nervously, still not entirely sure what was going on.

"Yeah, but I just wanted to see... what the girl's bathroom was like. Yeah, you know... cos I haven't ever been in there... before..." he trailed off.

"Alright," Mr Schue said blankly, starting to walk away, "see you later, Puck."

Puck massaged his temples, taking in what he'd heard from the conversation between Kurt and Mercedes. He couldn't believe he'd been so insensitive and inconsiderate. Of course Burt would be upset, what had he expected? Well, he guessed, he never expected that he'd see the other end of Karofsky's little dare. And he also never expected that Kurt would have such an extreme reaction. All Puck knew now was that he felt bad, worse than he'd ever felt before because of what he'd done to someone else. He racked his brains, wondering what he could possibly do to make things better. Suddenly...

"Mr Schue!" Puck sprinted down the corridor just as Mr Schuester rounded the corner, out of sight.

"Yes, Puck?" he said, looking mildly surprised. Puck skidded to a halt in front of his teacher, panting slightly.

"Sorry sir, but I have an idea. For Glee club," Puck improvised.

"Sure Puck, go ahead," Mr Schue's face lit up; he sounded genuinely interested.

"Well, I just thought it was kinda weird earlier, with Hummel messing up the end of the song in the diva-off and-" Puck started to speak without thinking, but Mr Schue cut him off.

"Oh! I know, right? He seemed so confident about it, and it was going so well! Ah man, I felt for him, I really did," Mr Schue shook his head.

"Yeah, so, I uhh..." Puck was pulling at strings now, "I heard Kurt practicing the other day, and I definitely heard him hit those high notes. So I... I was just wondering if maybe you could give him another chance? Like... a re-match?" Mr Schue frowned; he obviously never expected this from Puck. He seemed at a loss for words.

"Maybe he just needs a little more practice. I think it would mean a lot to him," Puck tried to get to Mr Schue's emotional side; they all knew he had one.

"Hmm... Yeah, Puck, I'll think about it," Mr Schue nodded, breaking into a smile, "it's great that you care so much about him to do this."

"I don't care about him," Puck said harshly, frowning. Schue seemed a little taken aback.

"I just don't want Rachel to get another solo. And besides, he sounded good," Puck sulked.

"Well, like I said, I'll think about it," Mr Schue clapped a hand on Puck's shoulder and nodded to him before making his way to the parking lot.

Puck heard a door swing open and shut from down the hall and he turned to see Mercedes with her arm around a very red-eyed Kurt.

_You have no idea what I've just done for you, kid_, Puck thought, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

_And hopefully, you never will._


	4. Chapter 4

**So this is going to be the last chapter for awhile, as I am going on holiday for 2 weeks with no internet... I promise i'll be back with some exciting stuff though! Thanks for reading, will update when I'm home :) Enjoy, review if you like :)**

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**Chapter 4**

"Alright guys," Mr Schue strode into the choir room, shoving some sheet music on top of the piano, "it has come to my attention that the diva-off yesterday may have been a little too soon for the participants to really be prepared, and to be honest with you, I think both of them could have done a lot better."

There was some murmuring among the Glee club: whispers and sideways glances. Rachel looked outraged. Puck smirked in her direction.

"Guys. Guys!" Mr Schue raised his voice above the babble, "Listen to me. Now, if we are going to place at Regionals, we need our soloists at the absolute top of their game. So I think, under the circumstances, it would be appropriate to have a... re-match, let's call it, to give both Kurt and Rachel the chance to show us what they are like at their very best."

"But Mr Schuester!" Rachel got to her feet, storming up to where he stood, "we already had that chance, and it was obvious that _some_ of us-" she looked pointedly in Kurt's direction, "do not have what it takes."

"Whoa, Rach," Mr Schue took a few paces away from the fuming girl, "I spoke to some of the other members of our team last night, and they agreed that they had heard you _both_ sing a lot better than you did yesterday. So, I'm going to give you until tomorrow to keep practising, especially those top notes, Kurt," he smiled encouragingly, "and we will hear you both sing again at 3 sharp, before Glee starts. Is that ok with everyone?"

Mr Schue looked around the room. There was a general buzz of consent, some voiced it with a small "yeah," or just nodded their heads. Kurt kept very quiet, his head down.

"Uhh... No! I'm definitely not ok with this," Rachel glared around the room, "I won fair and square yesterday! Honestly, Mr Schue, I would swear that every move you make is designed to sabotage my career."

"Enough with the melodrama, Rachel," Mr Schue laughed off the insult, "just think of it as another chance to sing solo in front of the whole group, ok? Impress me," he challenged. Rachel was momentarily distracted by this thought, and in the pause in her outrage, Mr Schue made for the door.

"You're dismissed!" he called out to the others, disappearing down the corridor.

Rachel exhaled loudly, grabbed her bag and stormed out of the room. A few people giggled quietly as they got their bags together and started to drift away.

Kurt sat very still, taking in what Mr Schue had said. What was he supposed to do now? Of course, he wanted the solo, so badly, but he couldn't put his Dad through all the stuff that would come with it. He couldn't blow the note again, but he couldn't just walk away from the competition – he loathed Rachel too much just let her have it without even showing. He would at least have to try. Kurt rubbed his temples – why was this so confusing?

He glanced up for the first time since Mr Schue had made his proposal. Mercedes was chatting to Tina and from what he could make out, they were trying to arrange going shopping at the weekend. Kurt immediately made a mental note – he wanted in on this trip. He needed some new dress shoes, after all. He looked to see who else was still occupying the choir room and was surprised to see Puck slouched in his chair, looking thoughtful. Puck felt Kurt's gaze and looked over at him, frowning.

"You alright, Hummel?" he asked curtly.

Kurt was shocked by the familiar ease in which Puck spoke to him – he didn't think they'd ever exchanged a word since being in Glee together, except for Puck to insult him at football practice. Thankfully the dumpster-diving had stopped, so Kurt felt more inclined to answer politely.

"Um... Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," Kurt said in a small voice, "what are you still doing here?" He smiled a little, trying to make conversation.

"I thought you'd be psyched you had another go at the solo," Puck shrugged, though he knew the reason Kurt wasn't as excited as he should be, "just wondered what was up. And besides, I am in no rush to get home tonight. I have a feeling I'm grounded."

Kurt didn't know how to respond. This was the weirdest conversation he'd ever had.

"Oh. Well... that sucks," he replied warily.

"I know, right? And I didn't do squat this time." Puck folded his arms across his chest. Kurt noticed his biceps flexing underneath his thin cotton shirt, and his eyebrows raised a little in Puck's direction. He'd never thought of his worst enemy like this before. But then, he guessed, his worst enemy had never struck up a legitimate, human conversation with him before.

The silence became a little awkward; Kurt turned back to see if Mercedes was done. She was now berating Tina on how she should give her all the details about her and Artie. Apparently something had happened last night when they stayed late after Glee ended. Kurt sighed, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Uhh... Well I'm gonna take off now," Puck got to his feet, slinging his bag over his shoulder, "you alright for a lift home?" He quickly glanced at Kurt, who looked beyond shocked. Had Noah Puckerman seriously just asked him if he wanted to ride home with him?

"I'm good thanks, Puck," Kurt replied, eyes still wide and eyebrows raised, "maybe some other time." What? Kurt thought to himself. No! Not _some other time._ If there was one thing that High School had taught him, it was that you stay away from Puck. And staying away from him included not getting in his truck.

"Sure," Puck nodded, "see ya," and he sauntered out the door. Kurt felt himself redden in embarrassment and confusion. That had not just happened. Why had Puck stayed after school to speak to _Kurt_, of all people? And he'd spoken to him _nicely_, that was the clincher. Kurt pondered the matter in silence for a few minutes, until Mercedes pulled him from his reverie.

"Kurt, you ready?" she called. Kurt shook his head slightly, dispelling all thoughts of Puck and his odd behaviour; there were more important things to deal with right now.

"No, I've only been sitting here for about 10 minutes," he sarcastically, but then smiled and joined Mercedes as she left the choir room.

They reached Mercedes' car as it began to rain; she unlocked it and Kurt got gratefully into the front passenger seat. The rain was sure to dissolve all that hairspray he'd used this morning into a greasy pulp on his bangs. Mercedes dumped her bag down and turned to Kurt, not touching the ignition key just yet.

"Kurt, what are you gonna do?" She looked sympathetically at him, biting her lip.

Kurt leant his head back on the seat, closing his eyes.

"I... don't know," he said simply, "I really don't know. I thought that would be the end of it, you know? That Rachel would get the solo, I would lose and that would be that. But now that there's a second chance..." he sighed loudly, "in some ways, I hate Mr Schue for putting me through this again, but in another way... I really want to win! And I think I have a good chance this time, you know?"

Mercedes nodded in agreement, and they sat there in silence for a long minute.

"I wonder whose idea it was," she pondered, more to herself than Kurt.

"Obviously, it was Mr Schue's... wasn't it?" Kurt was confused, "He was the one to announce it and all that."

"Yeah, but yesterday he seemed pretty happy with Rachel for the solo. I just think it's weird he would change his mind overnight. And he also said he spoke to some of the others... I'm just wondering who that could be," Mercedes frowned, trying to get to the bottom of this little mystery.

"Well, if it wasn't you, I can't think of anyone else in this club who would possible stick their neck out for me like that," Kurt said resignedly.

"Maybe Artie and Tina?" Mercedes suggested, "I know they stayed late last night... but from the sound of things I think they had other stuff to worry about. No offence," she added quickly, not wanting to make out that they didn't care.

"None taken," Kurt gave a small laugh, "what's wrong with them?"

"From what I could make out, they kissed, and then Artie got mad, cos Tina fakes her stutter," Mercedes dropped the bombshell as casually as she could.

"Really? Well, you learn something new every day," Kurt commented dryly.

"So anyway, back to you," Mercedes turned her attention back to Kurt, "are you just going to like talk to your Dad or something?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'll see what he thinks, and maybe talk through how he can get over the whole 'fag' thing," Kurt rolled his eyes, grimacing.

"Good idea. Right, so I'll drop you home now then, phone me later, yeah?" Mercedes started up the engine.

"Yeah. And this time I will actually call you," Kurt laughed.

"You better!" Mercedes looked at him sternly, wide-eyed. Kurt laughed some more.

They rode home in near silence; the only sound was the radio and the quiet pitter-patter of the rain on the windshield. They pulled into Kurt's driveway as the rain got heavier; Kurt sighed, lamenting his once-perfect hair.

"Thanks," he leaned over to give Mercedes a quick hug before opening the car door and getting ready to make a run for it.

"Pleasure," Mercedes smiled. Kurt was halfway out the door when she suddenly caught his wrist, stopping him.

"Wait," she said, a frown clouding across her face, "I just remembered... I saw someone else after Glee ended yesterday..."

"Well, hurry up and tell me – I'm getting soaked here!" Kurt was only half-joking.

"Kurt..." she raised her questioning gaze to meet his eyes, "it was Puck...?"

"What?" Puck's strange behaviour earlier came flooding back to Kurt, "Umm... I gotta go. I'll call you later!" He called, slamming the door behind him.

"Alright," Mercedes replied through the silence, shaking her head. She started up the engine again, wondering what on earth Puck was playing at.

One thing was for certain though; it did not bode well for either of them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry about the long delay since last chapter! I'm back from holiday now so there should be regular-ish updates from now on :) Hope you haven't missed me too much! ;)  
Thanks for reading, and waiting so long for this chapter - hope you enjoy, review if you'd like to :D**

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Chapter 5

Kurt was still frowning, looking shocked as he entered the house. His Dad wasn't home yet, so he guessed he would just lie low until he got a chance to speak to him about the competition the next day. He walked down to his basement in a daze, dumping his bag at the bottom of the stairs and flopping onto the white leather couch.

Puck? Why the hell would _Puck_ want Kurt to get the solo? Unless it was some kind of prank to embarrass him, but somehow Kurt didn't think so.

He thought over the conversation he'd had with Puck in the choir room.

"_Thought you'd be psyched you had another go at the solo... just wondered what was up."_

The words flooded back to Kurt. It seemed that Puck had thought he was doing something nice for Kurt, but in reality he'd messed everything up. And why would he care if Kurt wasn't 'psyched' anyway?

Kurt buried his face in his hands, massaging his temples. He let out an angry exhalation, before sitting up and deciding what he was going to have to do.

Ignoring the whole Puck situation for a moment, Kurt thought back to how he'd felt yesterday, singing the solo. He still thought that it must have been the best he'd ever sung it, and with a sudden realisation, he remembered how he'd come to his decision. He scrolled through his iPod, finding the backing track to Defying Gravity before roughly connecting it to the speakers that stood on a little table by the stairs. His stomach fluttered slightly, as it always did when he sang this song, and the familiar fantasy of singing it in front of thousands of people floated through his mind. He really hoped that he would gain some inspiration, some guidance, as he had when he sung it the day before in the diva-off.

Kurt was singing with his eyes closed, so immersed in the song and trying to find some hidden meaning, an answer to his question; he did not notice his father come down the stairs and switch off the speakers. Kurt was singing acapella, his clear, high voice ringing through the room and he didn't even notice he was unaccompanied, until the last note had died away.

The answer had not come to him, and now he guessed his speakers must be broken.

He turned bitterly towards the stairs and was surprised to find Burt standing there, mouth slightly hanging open, and a tear trickling down his face.

"Dad, I-" he started, "what's wrong?" Kurt's expression turned to one of concern as he noticed the tears on his father's face. Burt looked at him for one long moment and strode decisively over to his son, wrapping him in an enormous bear hug.

Kurt's stomach clenched, wondering what could possibly have happened now. They stood there in silence, until Burt broke away, they tears drying in tracks down his face.

"I only came down here to lower the volume," he gave a small laugh, staring in awe at Kurt's face, "and I got to hear that!"

Kurt frowned. "Dad, what are you talking about?"

"I..." Burt seemed to struggle for words, "I've never heard you sing before. Not properly, I mean. With you there in front of me... just your voice." Burt shook his head and he looked into Kurt's open, confused face. "But I thought you were done with all the try-outs for that song?"

"Oh... yeah," Kurt mumbled with chagrin, "Mr Schue decided we should get another try... tomorrow. He thought I could- uhh... should... do better than I did yesterday." Burt didn't need to know that someone else had actually put a word in for Kurt. As far as Kurt was concerned, Mr Schue could take the credit for this one.

Burt put a firm hand on Kurt's shoulder and looked him straight in the eye.

"Well, he was definitely right. Kurt... you sounded _amazing... _and I can tell by your expression what you're thinking..." he laughed, as Kurt averted his eyes, "but seriously. You have to try out tomorrow, Kurt. Didn't you hear what that song was about? Overcoming and rising above all the trash that happens in your life, if I heard correctly." He laughed again, and Kurt joined in, sniffling. They both knew the extent of Burt's musical understanding.

"I guess..." Kurt mumbled wetly.

"So," Burt straightened up, "I don't care what kind of stick I might get for you singing a girl's song in front of thousands of people. Don't even think about me. And whatever comes your way because of it, know that I will always be there to protect you and support you. So... I think you have your answer." He looked knowingly at Kurt, a smile forming on his face.

"You really think I should go for it, then?" Kurt looked worried, biting his lip.

"Definitely," Burt clapped him on the shoulder and strode back up the stairs.

"Dad?" Kurt said quickly, starting towards him.

"Mmm?" Burt paused on the stairs, still smiling widely.

"Th- thanks..." Kurt couldn't contain the infectious smile that crept across his face. His stomach fluttered as he realised – he was going to win.

"Welcome," Burt nodded and continued up the stairs. As he reached the top, however, he called back down.

"Kurt? Just... keep it down ok? I'm watching an NFL game..."

Kurt let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head. That was so typical of Burt.

"Will do," Kurt shouted, and with that, he immediately punched in Mercedes' number on his cell and proceeded to tell her exactly what had just happened.

* * *

Puck was distracted.

The XBOX controller lay limply in his palm as he gazed absent-mindedly out of the window. He had the TV turned right down, because XBOX wasn't strictly a permitted act when he was 'under house arrest,' as he liked to call it.

His thoughts had wandered to Kurt, and he was contemplating whether he had actually done the right thing by calling another diva-off. Kurt had blown the note for a reason; why, if he was given another chance, wouldn't he just do it again? He had a pretty legitimate reason for it after all, thanks to Puck.

Puck grimaced and turned his attention back to the screen. He'd just died on Level 1. He groaned – that was worse than Finn.

He chucked the controller aside and lounged on the small couch in his room. At least he'd spoken to Kurt today. He'd even offered him a ride home, and that was not something Noah Puckerman did lightly. He'd had to admit to himself he was a little disappointed when Kurt turned down the offer, even though it was blatant he was waiting for Mercedes. Why did Puck's head get all jumbled when he was around Kurt? He didn't even notice the obvious...

Puck sighed. At least Kurt had said he would ride home with Puck sometime. Puck would hold him to that, and he couldn't wait for when that day came.

He didn't know what he felt right now, but he knew he wanted to spend more time with Kurt. Those few minutes after Glee today had felt pretty good, and he couldn't wait to see if, tomorrow, his suggestion had paid off and Kurt would indeed get the solo. If it all went well, Puck thought, then maybe he could tell Kurt that it was him! That it was all his idea! And then maybe Kurt would take more of an interest in Puck...

"NOAH!" Puck's mom yelled up the stairs at him, followed by fast, stomping footsteps.

Puck's eyes widened as he was forced out of his reverie. He shut off the TV quickly and stuffed the controller behind his back. He looked wildly around the room for something to occupy himself with – he grabbed a random book off the dusty shelf just as his mother forced the door open. She looked sceptically at the book he held in front of his face.

It was Harry Potter. And it was upside-down.

"Like hell you've been reading that, Noah," she glared at him, "get down here and help me cook dinner. Your sister's going crazy – you know that the..." But Mrs Puckerman's voice turned to a low buzzing inside Puck's head as he shut her out, concentrating only on what was the best way to approach Kurt the next morning...

* * *

The dream started off as it always did... Kurt sat on his bed, a large hand clutching his own. He turned to face Finn, looking up into his chocolate brown eyes, knowing what was coming next. Finn brushed a small kiss over Kurt's expectant lips, hesitating as if to see how he would be received. Kurt kissed back more vigorously; his lips locked with Finn's, their mouths moving together. Kurt could feel Finn's hands running through his hair; his own hands cupped Finn's face...

They broke apart slowly, gasping for air. Kurt pulled back a little. His hands no longer caressed Finn's soft, pale skin; instead, he felt the weathered, slightly stubbly face of someone else. He pulled back a little more and stared into Puck's dark eyes, his crooked smile and raised eyebrow.

Kurt smiled and leant in once more...

Real-Kurt jolted awake, panting slightly, his eyes wild.

PUCK? He'd just had a make-out dream about _Puck? _

He checked the little glowing light on his cell: it was 5:19am. Kurt flopped back onto his pillow, unable to get Puck's face out of his mind. He covered his own face with his hands, realising that, in the dream, he had not been outraged and shocked to find Puck's lips against his... in fact he'd seemed rather pleased... and that did not look good.

Honestly, Kurt thought to himself, Puck does one nice thing for him, and speaks to him for about 2 minutes, and Kurt's mind goes into overdrive: suddenly they're making out in his room, totally in love with each other.

Kurt couldn't help himself now though – he'd never thought of Puck this way before, but now the idea had been planted, he was sure it wasn't going to go away all that easily...


	6. Chapter 6

**Ok, so it took a little longer than expected... but here is the next chapter :)  
Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy, review if you want to - keeps me motivated ;)**

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**Chapter 6**

"Ok, your votes have been counted..." Mr Schue announced to the quietly buzzing room, "and I am very pleased to announce that the winner of our little diva-off, and who will most probably be singing solo at Sectionals, is..."

Kurt held his breath.

He knew he'd done enough, he just hoped his classmates had recognised that, and had cared enough to give him a second chance. The end of the song had gone without a flaw; the high notes had been perfect.

Kurt had taken a peek around the room as he finished the song: Mercedes was bursting with pride, Rachel looked murderous, Finn looked vaguely surprised, and Puck... well, Puck looked a little smug, really. Kurt's stomach gave a little lurch as his eyes touched on Puck's for that split-second. The dream was still at the forefront of his mind, giving him unhelpful flashbacks; needless to say, Kurt had tried to avoid Puck all day for that reason.

Kurt and Rachel had had to leave the room when the votes were cast; they had no idea which way it could go.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever. Mr Schue smirked, dragging out Kurt's torture just that little bit longer, and then...

"Kurt!" Mr Schue announced happily.

There was an outburst of applause, some whooping and cheering. Kurt's face broke into a wide grin; he sat there slightly stunned. Rachel burst into tears and ran out of the room sobbing. Finn looked concernedly after her, but no-one made any move to follow the crying girl to the bathroom, where she had inevitably gone. Mr Schue sighed.

"Don't worry, Kurt, you won fair and square," Mr Schue addressed him apologetically, "I'll go and talk to her in a second."

Kurt just nodded; he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Alright guys, you're dismissed," Mr Schue called over the congratulatory chatter.

Kurt slowly got to his feet, feeling elated, and gathered up his belongings. As they left, the club members patted him on the back, offering him a "well done" or a "you were amazing, Kurt!" It was all he could do to smile and nod in a daze until Mercedes pulled him into a great big hug.

"I knew you would do it!" she squealed delightedly. Kurt started to laugh then, small giggles emitting from him in his relief and excitement.

"I'm so glad that's over," he sighed, still with his arms around Mercedes, his head buried in her shoulder. Mercedes pulled away and looked him straight in the face, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Yeah, but... now you have to do it all over again for Sectionals!" She let out a roar of laughter, and Kurt pretended to put his head in his hands.

"Bring it," he said as he looked up at her again, one eyebrow raised provocatively. They both laughed again, clearly ecstatic at the outcome of the little competition.

"Right, I have to go, you don't need a lift, do you?" Mercedes slung her bag over her shoulder, car keys in hand.

"No, no, my Dad said he wanted to pick me up... you know, after today," Kurt replied.

"Alright, see ya!" She left the choir room, still grinning ear to ear.

Kurt turned back to check he hadn't left anything behind and, for the second time that week, found himself face to face with Puck.

"Well done, Hummel," Puck nodded to him, hands in his pockets.

"Thanks," Kurt smiled shyly. The dream had just made a dramatic comeback in his mind; he flushed slightly red. Whether it was the memory of Puck's lips on his, or just the excitement buzzing inside him, Kurt didn't know, but he was suddenly struck with a newfound confidence. He took a deep breath, the smile still playing about his lips.

"I know it was you, by the way," Kurt looked into Puck's dark eyes as they widened in shock.

_WHAT? _

_How did Kurt about the phone call? How did he know it was me! _Puck thought to himself furiously. _But then, if he knew... why would he still be smiling? _

Puck decided to act stupid – he wasn't going to give himself away that easily.

"Uhh... what was me?" He arranged his features into a quizzical expression, biting back the fear and guilt coursing through his body. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I know you arranged the second diva-off, Puck. You asked Mr Schue after Glee last night. Mercedes saw you," Kurt looked amused. Puck sighed in relief, the tension flooding out of him.

"Ok, yeah," he admitted, smiling slightly with chagrin, "it was me."

"Well, then," Kurt took a deep breath, "thankyou, Puck. Really."

Puck waved a hand to dismiss Kurt's words of thanks. The phrase "it was the least I could do" came to mind, but he held his tongue.

"No, Puck," Kurt caught Puck's wrist as it dropped back down to his pockets; he gasped a little at the contact. Puck's skin was warm, the tendons underneath taut: he obviously felt it too.

"Uh..." Kurt was thrown off-guard by the sudden tension: he dropped Puck's wrist immediately, "um... Yeah, s-so. Really, thanks Puck. I really appreciate it. I'll be thinking of you when I sing at Sectionals..."

Kurt realised what he had just said. His eyes widened in shock and embarrassment. He gasped in horror.

"I mean...! You know, cos of what you... uh- um..."

"Uh, yeah... 'course," Puck cleared his throat quickly, "um... I gotta go. I'll see you round." He shot a quick smile at the mortified Kurt and hurried out of the room.

Kurt let out a little whimper, a hand on his forehead.

_Oh God..._he thought to himself.

He stood there unable to move, wallowing in his embarrassment. His words echoed in his mind: _I'll be thinking of you when I sing at Sectionals..._ _Ughhh. _It was almost as bad as if Kurt had said he would be singing _to_ Puck, to express his love for him and show that he wasn't afraid of admitting his gay crush to the world.

But then, he thought with another flush that turned him beetroot red, Puck probably thought that's what he meant...

* * *

Puck strode quickly out of school, his eyes looking shiftily around to check no-one had seen the awkward exchange between him and Kurt.

What the hell had just happened?

Puck was never lost for words around girls: he was Puckzilla, the sex shark, the smooth operator and all that jazz. So why had Kurt, of all people, left him speechless and flustered? What had he said? Oh yeah, _I'll be thinking of you when I sing at Sectionals. _

Puck thought it over.

He knew this type of comment. He seemed to do that to girls, you know, subconsciously compel them say things they wouldn't normally say in front of him, or in front of anyone, for that matter.

But this was different. This was _Kurt._ Kurt: the weird gay kid who was quite obviously in love with Finn.

A pang of unexpected jealousy shot through Puck's stomach as he thought of Finn, and how Kurt tried so hard to get his attention all the damn day.

_I'd give him the attention he deserved,_ Puck thought sulkily, and then froze once he realised what that meant, why he'd gone all red earlier, unable to produce a coherent sentence...

He couldn't have a crush on Kurt, could he? Really?

He thought about the efforts he'd already gone to for the boy: making sure Kurt had a chance to win the diva-off, staying behind to talk to him after Glee... Puck figured he'd just done those small good deeds because he'd felt so guilty, but now he realised there may have been a different motive. And judging by Kurt's strangely flirtatious comment, and the way he'd blushed so violently, Puck began to think that maybe that feeling was mutual...

He had just reached his truck; he plunked himself down in the front seat, starting the engine. Just as he pulled away, he saw Kurt emerging from around the corner, face still tinged pink. Puck's stomach gave a little squirm, but he kept driving – he was going to have to work on this one...

* * *

Kurt gave a small start when he saw Puck's truck pulling out of the parking lot.

Had Puck seen him?

Of course not, he sighed, thinking to himself, why would Puck care enough to watch him walk out of school? _Especially_ after he'd just embarrassed both of them: Puck's very public opinion that he thought Kurt was stupid fag had just been confirmed, in his eyes.

_Oh well... same old, same old. _

He pulled open the passenger door to his Dad's car and got gratefully inside.

"...So?" Burt looked at him expectantly.

"So... what?" Kurt was distracted.

"Come on, Kurt. Did you get the solo today, or not?" Burt brought Kurt back down to earth with a happy bump.

"Oh! Yeah, yeah I got it!" Kurt's face lit up immediately; he nodded with vigour.

"Knew you would! Well done, Kurt," Burt clapped him on the shoulder and, with that, drove off out of the lot.

Kurt was very quiet the whole way home; Burt, still grinning, turned to face him every few minutes, seemingly to check if he was still there.

"You alright?" he asked, slightly concerned, after the fourth or fifth check.

"What? Oh, yeah I'm fine," Kurt looked pointedly straight ahead.

"You look a little flushed... You're not getting sick, are you?" Burt obviously wasn't letting it go that easy; Kurt sighed internally.

"No, I'm great, Dad. Absolutely fine," he still didn't meet his father's eye.

"Alright," Burt didn't sound convinced, but Kurt wasn't listening any more.

This crush was going to be harder to suppress than he thought, and that was saying something, seeing as he'd been doing that for _months_ with Finn.

Finn... Kurt's thought's wandered to him now.

He still felt the same, familiar tingling sensation in his stomach that he did whenever the quarterback entered his mind, but somehow it felt... muted. Dull, almost. Like there was something more important overpowering it, and that scared Kurt a little. He'd never felt anything stronger than his emotions for Finn, but now... he just couldn't get Puck out of his mind. And that was only after one day!

Kurt groaned silently.

He dreaded tomorrow...


	7. Chapter 7

**Woo long chapter! Got a bit carried away I'm afraid... somehow nothing much seems to happen and its the longest chapter yet... Oh well, thanks for reading! Enjoy, review if you like it :D**

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Chapter 7

Puck was sitting in Spanish when he realised it. Mr Schue was wittering on about 'por' and 'para' for the umpteenth time, and Puck, as usual, had lost interest as soon as he entered the classroom. So it was kind of inevitable that, at some point in the lesson, Puck's attention would wander to the small brunette boy sitting at the front of the class.

He studied the back of Kurt's head intently: the perfectly styled hair held in place by cans and cans of lacquer, his petite shoulders rising and falling gently as he made notes. Puck pondered what his hair might be like without all the product – he imagined it unkempt and soft, Puck's fingers running through it...

And then it hit him. Literally: Karofsky had thrown a screwed-up bit of paper at the back of Puck's head.

He took no notice.

Thinking of Kurt in this way, Puck had realised something with a small jolt of surprise. Even after the last few days, the growing infatuation with Kurt, it had never even crossed his mind. It had just made itself clear after all these years, and he had accepted it, without even considering what _it_ was.

He was gay.

Sure, he'd gone after loads of girls, but the only motive behind that was that he wanted to sleep with them...

But with Kurt... He just wanted to make him happy, he wanted to hold his hand as they walked together, he wanted to feel his lips against his. And if that made him gay, then so be it. Puck didn't care. He didn't care about the labels, the insults, anything. All he cared about was Kurt, and hoping against hope that his instinct was correct: that Kurt felt the same way.

Unfortunately, this revelation came to Puck just as Mr Schuester asked him a question. For the third time.

He came back to his senses with a jolt.

"Uhh... I don't know," he said quickly.

"Exactly, Puck," Mr Schue said sternly, "now, stop staring at the front desk, wipe that grin off your face and start taking notes. You have a test next week."

Puck sat up straight then, flushing with chagrin. He kept his head down.

Kurt's ears pricked up a little when he heard Mr Schue ranting at Puck. _"Stop staring at the front desk and wipe that grin off your face?"_ Kurt was sitting at the front desk... And he was sitting there alone...

So, Puck was staring at him. And... grinning? The blood in Kurt's veins tingled excitedly, and he resisted the urge to look round at Puck. He just wanted a quick look, to see if he still stared in Kurt's direction. Kurt's lips pressed into a tight line and he turned round in his chair.

Puck's head was down, but Kurt could see he was peering at him from underneath his thick, dark eyelashes. Puck's stomach clenched as he saw Kurt looking curiously in his direction. He smiled a little, not enough for Mr Schue to notice, but Kurt understood. He half-smiled back, and then turned back to his notes, his breathing a little shallower than before...

* * *

All Puck wanted was to see Kurt again, but lunchtime posed a great opportunity for something else, something that, now he knew, was inevitable.

"Quinn," Puck approached her a little breathlessly.

"Hey," she said, smiling. The baking session a few days beforehand was still clear in her mind. Puck, on the other hand, had nearly forgotten all about it...

"I just wanted to let you know..." He took a deep breath, "I hope you and Finn are happy together. No-one need know the baby's mine – I won't tell a soul. You two can keep it as your own."

"What?" Her face fell a little; she sounded disappointed, sullen almost, as she questioned him, "had a change of heart have we?"

"Don't start, Quinn," Puck shook his head seriously, "this is what you want, isn't it? For me to butt out, so you can be with Finn. He loves you, you know."

"But..." Quinn's single word echoed with unsaid contradictions: Finn's inability to provide for their baby, his strange affinity for Rachel Berry...

"What's up, Puck?" She said slightly bitterly.

"I-" Puck started, but the gravity of the situation was too much. He had no words to explain how he felt at that moment, "I don't know," he said simply, his voice shaking slightly. Quinn sensed his distress; she didn't question him further, just laid a comforting, worried hand on his elbow. Puck nodded gratefully, his lips pressed together as he took a last look at her before striding quickly to his own locker.

Puck took a series of deep breaths. As much as he had accepted his sexuality without question, it was clear to him that he was not ready to tell anyone yet. His heart still thumped unevenly as he thought of what people might think... What Quinn might think, or Finn... or... Kurt.

Kurt would understand.

_Well then, _Puck thought to himself,_ you have your answer, don't you?_ As hard as it would be to say the words out loud to another person, Puck knew deep down that it would make all the difference between him and Kurt. And he also knew that it could be wonderful...

* * *

"Oh, what?" Kurt groaned as he read the message on his cell.

"What's up?" Mercedes looked up from her pizza as they sat in the canteen.

"Dad has to stay late at the garage tonight, so he can't pick me up from school," Kurt said sulkily, "see, this is why I keep telling him he should give me my car back! Honestly, I don't see what the problem was. It's only a tiara collection." Kurt pouted unhappily.

"And a very nice tiara collection it is, too," Mercedes said comfortingly, trying to keep the laugh out of her voice, "and I'm sorry Kurt, but I can't give you a lift either. I'm walking up to Tina's as soon as school's out."

"Well, _I'm_ not gonna walk all the way home. My shoes'll get ruined," Kurt said, more to himself now.

He moved a leaf of lettuce around his plate absent-mindedly with his fork, wondering what he could do. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he was acutely aware of someone watching him. He turned his head a fraction to the right; Azimio was doubled over with laughter, and Karofsky still had a finger pointed in Kurt's direction. Kurt vaguely wondered what the joke was this time, but figured it was probably nothing he hadn't heard before.

But that couldn't be what caused his slight discomfort; he could still feel the weight of a stare on him, long after the jocks had gone back to their plates piled high with food. He looked to the left, and for the second time that day, made eye contact with Puck. He was sitting alone on the table in the far corner, slouching in his chair, a half-eaten burger on his plate.

Kurt had an idea.

"I'll be back in a sec," Kurt said absently to Mercedes and started to meander through the crowd to get to Puck's table. Mercedes stared after him as she realised where he was headed, Kurt could now feel her eyes on him, but he didn't care. He might be about to kill two birds with one stone, here; the two birds in question being getting a ride home, and also finding out exactly where he stood with Puck.

Puck started to smile as he saw Kurt approach where he sat; he couldn't help himself. Kurt blushed, and immediately hated himself for it: why did his pale, prone-to-go-red-at-any-moment complexion always give him away just when he really needed to keep his composure? He rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of the chair opposite Puck.

"Hey," he said in a small voice, looking down at his hands, "umm... I was just wondering if- well, actually... first, I wanted to apologise for yesterday," he nervously met Puck's warm eyes, but found it too distracting; he focused on a dent on the table's surface instead. "I didn't mean to... make you uncomfortable; I just meant that... you know, I appreciate what you did for me."

Puck still lounged in his chair.

"It's cool," he shook his head, dismissing the apology, "I know what you meant." Kurt nodded slowly, eyes wide as he hoped that meant Puck knew Kurt wasn't being provocative. Or was he? Looking back, it was pretty bad. He blushed again.

"So... Now, I just wanted to ask a favour...?" Kurt fingers trembled slightly, but his voice was stronger now he had seen that he hadn't offended Puck, and that Puck hadn't insulted him. Yet, anyway.

Puck sat up a little straighter and folded his hands on the table in front of him.

"Go on," he smiled a little, looking straight at Kurt. His heart beat a little faster in anticipation.

"You know you said you were up for giving me a ride home? Well," Kurt took a deep breath, "I was just wondering if I could take you up on that offer. If-" he added quickly, "if it's not too much bother or anything. It's just that my Dad has to stay late at work and-"

"Sure, no problem," every cell in Puck's body tingled in nervous excitement, but he contained it, simply smiling at Kurt, who looked a little surprised.

"Wow, ok," he said, caught off-guard, "I didn't think you were actually going to say yes... I thought I'd at least have to do something in return..."

"What sort of thing did you have in mind?" Puck raised an eyebrow, smirking. Kurt gave a small nervous laugh. This was... weird.

"Maybe a dumpster dive, or two?" Kurt tried to steer the conversation away from the innuendo-ed path it seemed to have taken. It worked: the smirk was wiped off Puck's face , and now it was his turn to feel embarrassed. The phone call, the bullying, it all came back to him.

"Listen, Kurt," he said, frowning and leaning even closer still, "I'm really sorry about... all those times, with the dumpster, and the Slushees, and-"

But Kurt cut him off.

"It's fine," he said, a little too shortly. Puck looked nothing less than ashamed, but Kurt's expression relaxed somewhat as he rephrased.

"Look, I'm not just gonna forget about everything you've put me through – I just can't do that. But, I guess, I am willing to forgive you, in time. You've made a good start already," Kurt gave a small laugh, "for reasons I cannot fathom, but you seem to have turned over a new leaf."

_You have no idea_, thought Puck.

"And I guess giving me a ride home wouldn't be a step in the wrong direction, so... thanks," Kurt was surprised at how easy it had become to talk to Puck in those few minutes, after they had gotten over all the awkwardness.

"Really, it's no problem," Puck was filled with more admiration for Kurt than ever; he could do nothing but stare into his intense blue eyes, "I'll meet you by your locker after last period?"

"Ok," Kurt said, shy again now, "thanks, you've saved my life. And my shoes."

_No!_ Kurt thought to himself, _you always have to ruin it with stupid comments, don't you?_

He stood up awkwardly and walked back to the table where Mercedes was waiting, her jaw hanging open slightly.

"See ya," Puck called after him, still slightly confused about the shoe comment.

"What was that?" Mercedes looked shocked as Kurt sat down opposite her, as if nothing had happened.

"I'm... getting a lift home with Puck," he said innocently, "yeah. We're... sort of friends now. I guess."

Mercedes looked sceptical.

"What you are doing, Kurt?" she berated him, "don't you see this is just another ploy to beat you up, or throw you into a garbage can somewhere? You have to be careful about these things! Keeping your shoes in good condition is not worth that much, Kurt."

"Mercedes! This is not about my shoes. It was down to Puck that now I get to sing at Sectionals!" he lowered his voice, but the exclamation was still apparent.

"Yeah, but..." she didn't look convinced.

"Honestly, I got this," he pouted slightly. Mercedes was _not_ going to ruin his moment with Puck, "I think he's changed. For the better."

Mercedes' mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water: she saw how serious Kurt was, so she wasn't going to argue, but... she just didn't want him to get hurt.

* * *

Last period couldn't go quick enough for either of them. Kurt sat by the window in History, not listening to a word their teacher was saying. His stomach squirmed excitedly: even though he knew there was no way Puck could feel the same way about him, he relished the prospect of being alone with him for the good twenty-minute drive to Kurt's house. He thought about how close they would be, how Puck's hand would rest on the handbrake just a few inches from Kurt's body. No matter what happened, at least he would have that moment...

Puck had Gym class, and it was fair to say that he had never played a worse game of football. Twice the ball had hit him on the head now, simply because he was not paying any attention whatsoever to the game.

Should he tell Kurt tonight? Or was it too soon, too weird, after only a few days of interaction between them? He thought about the conversation they had had earlier, how easy it was to talk to him, how nothing else mattered when Kurt spoke, even when he was discussing Puck's appalling treatment of him. But they seemed to have made a start, anyway, and Puck couldn't wait to see him again, to continue the conversation and prove that he could make it up to him, somehow.

The phone call tucked away into the back of his mind, Puck decided that that was something no-one ever needed to know. Especially not Kurt.

* * *

Kurt rushed to his locker as soon as the bell rang; for once in his life he was glad they didn't have Glee rehearsal. He shoved his books into his messenger bag and waited nervously. He shuffled his feet around, watching the students file past him noisily.

Where was Puck?

The last few stragglers had just vacated the corridor, and Kurt was beginning to lose hope when he heard running footsteps coming from around the corner. Puck jogged to a halt in front of Kurt, panting slightly.

"Sorry, man," his face was pink from the exertion, "I had Gym last period – had to shower and all that."

"That's ok," Kurt replied, "I haven't been waiting long, anyway."

"Great. Let's go," Puck started off down the corridor, a towel thrown over one shoulder, a smiling Kurt by his side...


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry guys - short chapter this time, and its full of fluff and soppy stuff I'm afraid... Haha ANYWAY. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy, review if you want :)**

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Chapter 8

"Puck! I just told you to turn off here!" Kurt started to panic as Puck deliberately missed the turn-off to his street.

The journey had been nice, but slightly awkward; they had exchanged pleasantries about the day, comments on Rachel's obnoxious behaviour towards both of them (word had got out about Puck's role in Kurt getting the solo), but they had both seemed to enjoy each other's company.

So when Puck sabotaged Kurt's ride home, Kurt was shocked, and suddenly all the fear he had once felt whenever Puck was in the vicinity came flooding back to him. What if Mercedes was right? What if this _was _just a massive ploy to kidnap him and beat him up?

Puck didn't reply.

"PUCK!" Kurt was shouting now, half in frustration, half in fear, "Take me home, right now!" He turned in his seat to face Puck, defiant.

Puck glanced over briefly, and chuckled humourlessly, shaking his head.

"Cool it, Kurt."

"It's not funny," Kurt replied scathingly, his jaw clenched.

At that moment, Puck pulled into a small parking lot that backed onto a field. His stomach knotted and his breathing became slightly shallower as the conversation he knew he would have to have started to impend upon him. He sat very still, waiting for Kurt to explode.

"Where are we," It wasn't a question. Kurt was fuming.

"I just thought we could walk for awhile," Puck said, getting out of the car. Kurt followed suit quickly, trying to get through to the strangely distracted Puck.

"Puck. Puck!" Kurt had to jog to catch up with him as he strode away across the expanse of grass. The shouts and laughter of small children floated towards the two boys through the warm afternoon air, as they passed a large playpark.

Kurt caught Puck's arm, again experiencing the jolt of electricity as he made contact, and they came to a halt, Puck turning to face Kurt reluctantly. His eyebrows pinched together and his jaw was taut.

"Kurt," he sighed resignedly, "I just... need to talk to you." Kurt was a little shocked at the tenderness in Puck's voice, no longer afraid.

"What's wrong?" He said quietly.

"This way," Puck gestured to a small clump of trees on the other side of the field, and Kurt followed silently alongside him, pondering what could be on Puck's mind. They reached the trees, out of sight of the playpark, and of the field. They were totally alone.

"Sit." Puck pointed to a patch of grass at the trunk of a tree.

Kurt stared at the ground, disgusted.

"Uh, no," he scoffed, not looking away from the slightly muddy ground. Puck gave a short laugh, shaking his head. He took off his jacket and laid it out in front of him.

"Better?" He said, raising an eyebrow, a slight smile on his face.

"Yes, thankyou," Kurt said, dusting himself down before settling on the dark jacket. He didn't leave any space for Puck, who sighed and plunked himself down on the grass next to him.

They were silent for a few minutes. Kurt could feel the tension in the air; he was excruciatingly aware of Puck sitting only inches from him, close enough to touch, to hold...

He glanced at Puck from the corner of his eyes, not wanting to risk turning his head. Puck looked deep in thought, concern clouding his face. Kurt bit his lip. Had he done something wrong? But before he had time to consider that thought, Puck shifted beside him.

"Kurt, I uh..." Puck swivelled to face Kurt head on now, his eyes closed as if he had to force the words from his lips, "I need to tell you something."

"Go on," Kurt encouraged, sensing how hard it was for him to get whatever it was out of him.

"You're the only one I... the only one who could possibly understand," Puck's voice shook a little; Kurt frowned worriedly, but Puck was oblivious. His hands were clammy, clasped in his lap, and his breathing was shallower still. Nerves burned his insides; this was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He slowly opened his eyes and looked solemnly at Kurt, holding his gaze. Kurt's heart beat faster at the intimacy; the air between them seemed to constrict, the tension was suffocating.

"I need to tell you something," Puck repeated, in a whisper now; he never took his eyes off Kurt.

"Yes," Kurt whispered back, not daring to hope, not just yet.

"I'm..." but the word stuck in his throat. _Gay. Gay!_ Puck blinked a few times, trying to clear his head, his voice.

"I'm..." he tried again, a hand reaching out to Kurt for support. He traced Kurt's cheek very gently, leaving a trail of fire where his fingertips made contact with the warm, soft skin.

It would have to be a case of show, don't tell.

Puck's hand closed around the side of Kurt's face and slowly brought it up to meet his. The words were plainly etched in his eyes, but Kurt didn't seem to care; his eyelids closed as he took a deep, shuddering breath.

They were millimetres away; Puck savoured the moment, he could see Kurt's every freckle, every eyelash in minute detail.

Even more slowly than before, he lowered his lips to Kurt's. Kurt gasped a little as Puck's lips brushed his, but suddenly all he could feel was fire. He pulled Puck closer still, clasping the front of his shirt with one hand; the other was firmly around Puck's neck.

This was so much better than the dream.

Everything was clearer, stronger: the smell, the taste, the emotion. It was overwhelming; Kurt's head was spinning, he couldn't think. Puck deepened the kiss, his lips firm but gentle, moving in perfect unison with Kurt's.

This was what he'd been waiting for, and it was perfect.

They broke apart reluctantly, exchanging a few more greedy kisses as they regained breath.

Kurt rested his forehead against Puck's, panting slightly.

"Oh," he said, in reply to Puck's unspoken confession. He smiled slightly, eyes still closed.

"Yeah," whispered Puck, smiling in return.

The tension was gone; he felt completely comfortable, sitting there with his hands resting on Kurt's waist.

This was where he belonged.


	9. Chapter 9

**So I'm back in school now, which means I won't be able to update too often... but I will do my best to try and get the next chapter out as soon as I can. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy, please review if you want to :D**

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**Chapter 9**

Kurt's phone buzzed on his dressing table. He dropped the hairdryer on the floor and ran to see whose name appeared on the tiny glowing screen. It said '_Noah.'_

He inhaled excitedly and flipped the lid open.

_Free house tonight... I'll pick you up at 8? ;) xx_

Kurt bit his lip to stop squealing out loud; he stared at the screen, a thousand possibilities running through his mind.

He couldn't believe how lucky he was. He had managed to find another gay guy in Lima Ohio, and it just so happened that said guy was one of the most desirable men on the planet. And now that very same guy wanted him to go round his house and spend the evening with him.

A smile had been permanently etched on his face for a good couple of months now; the exact length of time that he and Puck had been together for. No-one knew as yet; Puck was still coming to terms with his sexuality, something that Kurt was giving him _a lot_ of help with, but they both knew that not many people would be so accepting. Sure, they talked in school, they walked together, and sometimes sat together in Glee, but they never let on to anyone about their secret relationship.

Except Mercedes.

She knew Kurt so well now that it was ridiculous to assume she was oblivious to his new-found happiness, so he had told her about his relationship with Puck. Kurt knew that she wouldn't say a word; she valued her best friend's happiness too much to be the one to ruin it, and Kurt loved her for it. So no-one else knew...

_Sure – can't wait! :D xxxx_

Kurt always put more kisses on the end of a text than Puck did. Puck was just lazy like that, Kurt thought to himself. It obviously wasn't anything to do with how much Puck liked him. Of course not.

He checked the clock on the dresser: 6.15pm. He had time. He picked up the hairdryer again, tentatively checking to see if any lasting damage had been done, but it was, thankfully, still fully functional. Blow-drying his hair was an essential part of his daily routine.

Excitement started to build in his stomach, but there was a nagging at the back of his mind that he knew he was going to have to address. You see, the only problem was, two months had passed, and Kurt still hadn't told his dad...

Staying later than usual after school was easy to cover up: he just feigned extra Glee rehearsals, and the occasional evening outing could be blamed on Mercedes having a clothes crisis (what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her...), but now... Kurt had run out of excuses. He knew he would have to come clean with his father, even thought he knew he was _definitely_ not ready to hear it.

His hands started to clam up as he heard Burt bustling around in the kitchen upstairs. Now was his chance. Each step he took echoed ominously up the stairs; he cracked his knuckles nervously. Kurt waited at the door, just out of sight, taking a few deep breaths and smoothing the non-existent creases out of his trousers.

"Hey, Dad," he tried to smile as he entered the little kitchen.

"Oh, hey Kurt," Burt's eyes lingered a little on Kurt's outfit, "you look... nice," he said, slightly suspiciously. Kurt blushed; of course, he'd made a special effort for Puck. He was wearing the tightest, reddest skinny jeans he could possible find, matched with a crisp, tight white T-shirt, a change from his usual Tom Ford suits, and a black silk scarf. His hair was styled into a small quiff, held in place by a whole can of hairspray.

"Thanks," Kurt breathed, gathering his courage. This time his voice was louder, more assertive.

"Dad, I need to talk to you," he swallowed loudly.

"Sure," Burt said slowly, "sit down." He motioned to the round table in the middle of the room, and Kurt sank gratefully into a chair. Burt sat opposite him, trying to fathom Kurt's expression, coming up with nothing.

"Go on," Burt encouraged.

"Uhh... Well. I sort of... have a... boyfriend... now..." the sentence trailed off into a breathy whisper. Burt's expression immediately turned into one of fear and discomfort.

"Kurt, I really don't think I'm ready to have _that_ conversation," he said, averting his eye and fiddling with the baseball cap he always wore.

"No, no!" Kurt said quickly, "It's not about... _that_... I just wanted to let you know!" Kurt was mortified, but he could tell his father was taking it worse; Burt was as red as Kurt's jeans, wiping his forehead fervently.

"Oh, ok," Burt sounded beyond relieved, "Uhh... how long has... _this-_" he gestured wildly in the air, "-been going on, then?" Kurt bit his lip.

"About two... months," he said guiltily.

"Two? ...Two _months_? Kurt!" Burt was angry now, all trace of embarrassment gone, "Why did you hide this from me?"

It was Kurt's turn to lash out now, "Because I knew this was how you would react!"

The exclaimation hung in the air; Burt looked like he was about to retaliate, but he held his tongue, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes.

"Ok," he said, defeated, "you're right. I don't know how to react. If you were dating a girl I wouldn't know what to do either..." He opened his eyes, looking apologetically at Kurt, "It's just gonna take some getting used to."

"Yeah," Kurt said in a small voice, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before." He could tell that Burt was trying so hard to be ok with the whole situation, to do the right thing. Burt nodded, accepting the apology.

Kurt blushed even more as he realised there was a second part to this revelation that he hadn't touched upon yet.

"Um, Dad?" Kurt winced already, knowing this was going to be even worse.

"Yeah?" Burt said suspiciously.

"Puck's invited me over his house this evening," he closed his eyes, not wanting to see Burt's reaction: this was really pushing his luck, "he said he's going to pick me up at eight... If that's... ok?"

Silence fell over the little room; Kurt had to open his eyes to check his father was still there. Burt massaged his temples and let out a long, slow breath.

"Kurt, I can't tell you what to do. You're sixteen... you have to make your own choices," Kurt could tell this was difficult for him to say. He nodded, biting his lip.

"But... you have to be careful," Burt said solemnly, looking Kurt right in the eye, "you've spent time with this guy before I'm guessing? Even though I didn't know," he added as an aside. Another wave of guilt washed over Kurt.

"Yeah," he agreed, quietly.

"Ok, then. Well, there's nothing I can do to stop you," Burt sat back in his chair, resigned, before a sudden thought came to him, "but I want you home by eleven." He was so serious that Kurt just nodded quickly and stood up, making for the door.

"Thankyou," he said sincerely, stopping at the threshold and turning back to his father, who looked exhausted.

Kurt made his way back down to his basement, trembling slightly. That had gone... better than he had expected, actually. At least he was allowed out tonight... the chances of that happening seemed to have gotten slimmer and slimmer as their conversation went on, somehow.

Kurt sank slowly onto his bed, clutching his cell phone as he waited for eight o'clock to tick round.

_Beep-beep! _Puck was right on time.

Kurt jumped up off the mattress, jogging quickly up the stairs, his pointy-toed, shiny black shoes tapping loudly on each step.

"Bye, Dad!" he called as he passed the kitchen, grabbing a key from on top of the shoe-cupboard.

"Have a nice time," Burt called back reluctantly, but Kurt barely heard him as he raced out the door to the truck waiting outside.

"Hey," Puck smiled widely as Kurt slid into the passenger seat next to him.

He leaned in for a brief kiss, a hand lingering on Kurt's face for just a second before he drove off.

Burt watched from the window, their sweet exchange in full view. He didn't know what to feel...


	10. Chapter 10

**Ok... I apologise MOST profusely for the complete lack of updates recently - I have been soooo busy with school and have just got back from expedition and blah blah blah... so I'm sorry! If you are reading this, then I thank you for sticking with it, even though it's been months! Haha thanks for reading, hope you enjoy, review if you want to :) Hopefully updates will be a bit sooner this time! :P**

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**Chapter 10**

Kurt took in the familiar surroundings as he stepped out of the truck, into the Puckermans' front yard. A few scraggly bushes lined the perimeter; the gravelled drive was dusty and interspersed with weeds.

"Alright?" Puck turned back as Kurt had lingered for a moment; he loved Puck's house. It was so homey and had a very motherly feel to it, something which Kurt missed deeply, even though he could barely remember what it was like.

Puck held out his hand, a small smile on face.

"Yeah," Kurt breathed, placing his own hand in Puck's, walking side-by-side over the threshold.

Kurt had gotten used to the routine now: whenever Puck's mom was out, usually ferrying his little sister around, he would invite Kurt over for a few hours. Kurt always dumped his bag down in the hall, placing his shoes carefully next to it, and they proceeded to the living room, where watching a movie or making out would occur, often at the same time. They'd get a pizza or something, and Kurt would stare in admiration and amusement at Puck as he devoured a plate piled high with food; he just nibbled on a slice or two.

So, Kurt assumed, today would be no different. He took his shoes off, arranging them neatly next to his messenger bag, and started to make his way into the lounge, but Puck caught his arm.

"Wait," he said quietly.

"What?" Kurt's eyes were wide with intrigue.

"Up here," Puck found Kurt's hand, lacing their finger's together. He smiled warmly, gently leading Kurt up the stairs. Kurt's heart raced; Puck seemed so serious, but there was also a quiet excitement in his eyes. It made Kurt feel all tingly.

They reached the top of the stairs, and Kurt's stomach lurched as they headed towards a door with the word 'Noah' scratched into it. His breathing got shallower as they neared the door: were they really going to-?

But Puck steered him away at the last minute, to a small spiral staircase just off the main landing; Kurt wasn't going to lie to himself, he felt a little disappointed at this change of intention. They clambered up the cramped, wrought-iron stairs, Kurt getting more and more confused with every step, until they emerged through a small door onto the fenced roof.

The November air was still and cool; it was pitch black even despite the early evening, and the stars crept through the dark blanket of sky. Kurt stood in awe, feeling very small; he squeezed Puck's hand even tighter.

"I come up here a lot," Puck's voice broke through the silent air. They stood together, gazing up at the stars, hand in hand. "My dad used to bring me up here when I was little... Before he left." Kurt turned his head shyly in Puck's direction, shocked to hear Puck talking about his father. This subject had never come up before, and Kurt could hear the raw emotion in his voice.

"He used to say that... If ever we were apart, to just look up at the night sky and know that, wherever he was... he was looking at the same stars, the same amazing balls of gas, burning away in the universe... and that fact would bring us together, bring us closer... A secret understanding..." Puck turned to face Kurt now, taking both his hands in his own, cradling them, "and I want you to do the same. I don't ever want to be parted from you, Kurt, but if for any reason we are, I want you to look up at the stars and think of me, knowing that I'll be doing exactly the same... thinking of you."

Puck slowly raised a hand to Kurt's cheek, his fingertips tracing the contours of his skin ever so gently. Kurt's eyelids fluttered; it was a thousand kisses later, but still every touch felt like magic. He was surprised to find his eyes filling with tears, but he knew they were joyful; he'd never been so happy in his life.

"Noah..." Kurt whispered, raising his head to look deep into Puck's eyes, "I... I love you." It hung in the air; it was the first time either one had said those three little words.

"What?" Puck sounded a little shocked: no one had ever said that to him before. Kurt immediately regretted it; he removed his hands from Puck's grasp and turned his head away. The tears of happiness were soon going to be of the other extreme – he could feel it.

"I'm sorry... I just thought- you know that-" but Puck cut him off, placing a finger on his soft, full lips. He stroked the tears away with his thumb and tilted Kurt's chin up to face him.

"Shh..." he breathed, very slowly lowering his face so their foreheads touched. Puck paused there; he could feel Kurt trembling under the contact, drawing out the moment for eternity. Then, when the tension became unbearable, Puck's lips met Kurt's in desperation. He could feel the tears still streaked down Kurt's cheek; it made the kiss so raw and all the more meaningful... His hands were in Kurt's hair, he wanted to stay like this forever.

Kurt smiled to himself, his lips still pressed against Puck's... He thought he knew what this meant. Puck broke away slightly, still stroking the side of Kurt's face.

"What is it?" he whispered, resting his forehead against Kurt's again, savouring the moment.

"Nothing... I'm just happy," Kurt smiled, wide-eyed, at the boy in front of him.

"Good... You... you know I love you too right?" Puck frowned a little. Had he made that clear?

Kurt breathed a small laugh, biting his lip and looking at Puck from beneath his eyelashes.

"Yes, I do," and he leant up on his tiptoes to plant another kiss on Puck's slightly confused mouth. They both laughed, the sound whipping through the night air, carried away on a breeze. The stars shone and twinkled above their embrace...

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It was with great difficulty that Kurt dragged himself out of Puck's truck at 10.59pm; neither wanted to leave the other, but they knew they'd have to answer to Burt's wrath if Kurt was but a minute late coming through the front door.

"Noah, stop," Kurt placed a hand on Puck's chest, reluctantly pushing him away as he leant in from another kiss, "I have to go. I love you," he smiled as he opened the passenger door.

"Fine," Puck feigned annoyance, but his eyes blazed with happiness, "I love you too, Kurt."

"See you tomorrow," he whispered, closing the door and waving all the way down the path until he reached the front door. Puck waved back once, and then drove off; he didn't want the awkward stares when Burt opened the door, but it was hard to leave; he would stay there all night if he could.

"Good time?" Burt tried to make conversation as Kurt rounded the corner into the kitchen with a big grin on his face. He checked his watch absent-mindedly; he seemed a little disappointed that it was actually dead-on 11pm.

"Yeah, thanks. Really good," Kurt tried not show his elation, tried to play it cool, but he could already feel the joy creeping through: he wanted to jump up and down and sing at the top of his voice, but that would have to wait, "I'm gonna go to bed, Dad. Quite tired now – I'll see you in the morning." Kurt hugged Burt quickly, before removing himself from the situation and escaping downstairs to his basement.

Burt stared after him, unsure what to feel. He should be pleased that Kurt had found someone who obviously made him very happy, shouldn't he? But at the same time, he'd just smelt someone else's aftershave on his son's skin as he'd hugged him goodnight, and he didn't want to know how it got there...

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Puck couldn't sleep that night; he could still feel Kurt's lips on his, his hands still ran through his hair... It was amazing, but as he fantasised, the same four words kept running through his mind: _your son's a fag..._

Puck flinched, remembering what he had done with chagrin.

His stomach fell as he realised those words were the reason for his relationship with Kurt right now... you couldn't build a relationship on something like that, could you? Did that make it based only on a lie?

Ughh, he thought to himself, he was a horrible person. But, as long as Kurt never found out, what did it matter? He was so over those bullying days, there would be no need to re-open old wounds, would there? Puck didn't think so. He was ready to put that phone call behind him, and get on with his new, amazing life, with Kurt none the wiser...


	11. Chapter 11

**Ughh so, again, its been awhile. I'm so sorry I'm taking so long to update these days! I have the whole story planned out and everything, it's just finding time to do it I guess... Anyways, enough about me :) Thankyou so much for reading and sticking with this even though I'm being incredibly slow... Lol hope you enjoy, review if you want to! :D**

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**Chapter 11**

"How was your day?" Puck asked, as Kurt clambered into the front seat of his truck.

"Ugh, the usual," Kurt replied with a small grimace, "it would be so much better if we could actually spend some time with each other in front of people though. All this sneaking around is tiring me out."

He rested his head against the back of the seat closing his eyes.

"Yeah..." Puck said quietly, "I'm sorry Kurt, I just... I'm not ready to tell people just yet... about, you know..."

"Oh, no, I'm not talking about you Noah! Honestly, I get how hard this is to come to terms with. I'm referring to those Neanderthal jocks who seem to want to make my life a living Hell just for being me; can you imagine what they'd do if they found out we were together?"

Puck breathed a sigh of relief, "Yeah. That would be... pretty bad. I honestly don't know how you did this on your own... I'm so lucky to have you, Kurt."

"Aww!" Kurt leaned into Puck for a quick kiss before he started the engine.

"So... where do you wanna go?" Puck slowly pulled out of the school parking lot, smiling at Kurt.

"Hmm... my Dad's at home all day today, so I guess that's out... I dunno, shall we just hang out at the park or something?" Kurt suggested.

"Sure," Puck drove for a little longer before turning off into the parking lot that faced on to the field. He halted suddenly, though, when he realised who was throwing a football around in front of them.

"Oh no," Kurt breathed, cursing internally.

"Stay here; I'll try and pull out without them noticing," Puck started to reverse, but Karofsky had recognised them; Kurt flinched as a football hit the bonnet of the beaten-up truck they were sitting in.

"Noah," Kurt looked in dismay at Puck, whose jaw was tightly clenched; his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"Don't talk, I'll handle this," he said in a hard, cold voice, getting out of the truck and slamming the door behind him.

"Not likely," Kurt said to himself, rolling his eyes. He got out gingerly, however, half-hidden behind the bonnet. The wind whipped round them; Kurt hugged his arms around himself to keep warm.

"What do you think you're doing to my car?" Puck's voice was unusually bright, trying to dispel the situation as soon as possible. The two jocks ignored him.

"What have we here, then?" Azimio cracked his knuckles, taking in the sight of the two of them.

"Got yourself a little boyfriend, have you Puck?" Karofsky sneered, snickering.

"Keep out of this Karofsky – just... leave us alone," Puck said; Kurt could tell he was fighting to keep calm.

"Do you know what? I don't think I can stay out of this. It's too good to be true!" He laughed, slowly sauntering up to Puck until he was right in his face.

"Don't..." Puck's voice was so dangerous that Karofsky seemed to back off just a little. He turned his attention to Kurt then.

"Do you think he's perfect then, Hummel? ...Do you love him?" Karofsky closed in on Kurt, who clamped his mouth shut, terror in his eyes. Azimio sniggered.

"Stop it," Puck whispered, his face contorted into a snarl.

"Have you told him yet, Puckerman?" Puck's stomach dropped through the floor as he saw where Karofsky was going with this.

"...Karofsky," He threatened, balling his palms into fists, but Kurt was intrigued.

"Tell me what?" Kurt spoke up against his better nature. He was shocked at how calm his voice was; it barely shook despite his fear.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Azimio chuckled, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"Well, a little birdy told me..." Karofsky started, but Puck launched himself at him, begging him to stop talking. Nothing needed ruining, not now, not when they were so happy.

"Hey!" Azimio pulled Puck off Karofsky, tossing him back towards the truck, "Let him finish!" He said with a twisted grin.

Puck's breathing got shallower; Kurt stared in dismay and confusion at him.

"Noah?" he breathed.

"Ooh, Noah?" Karofsky taunted, imitating Kurt's voice, "Your _boyfriend's_ been making himself useful, actually, Hummel. You know, raising awareness and all that. He's done you a great favour, in fact!"

"What are you talking about, Karofsky?" Kurt was getting irritated now, but he couldn't help worrying that there was a truth to his words; he wondered what Puck had done...

"Puckerman here thought it would be pretty awesome to tell your father some... things... secrets... about you," Karofsky was on the verge of laughing, but Puck cringed, his face contorting. He couldn't bring himself to look at Kurt.

"Like... what?" Kurt spoke very slowly and deliberately, but he was crying inside.

"Do the words 'your son's a fag' ring any bells?" Karofsky dangled the sentence in front of Kurt, waiting for the moment of recall, which arrived almost instantly. It hit Kurt like nothing he'd ever felt before. His blood turned to ice in his veins; it hurt his heart to pump the freezing liquid round his body.

"Oh my..." Kurt was lost for words, "Puck?" He stared at him until Puck finally met his gaze, a mixture of denial, truth, anger and sadness in his eyes.

"And with that, we are outta here!" Azimio took a flamboyant bow in front of them before clapping Karofsky on the back and making towards his car.

"We'll leave you to this particular lover's tiff, shall we?" Karofsky smirked as he passed them, "You're welcome!" He shouted back over his shoulder, laughing hysterically.

Puck stared hard at the floor again as he heard the two jocks drive off; he didn't move until he heard the engine fade into the distance.

"Is it true?" Kurt whispered, but there was no reply.

"Puck... Did you make that phone call to my Dad?" Puck could hear thick tears in Kurt's voice as it got louder, more accusatory.

Puck turned, fighting back his own tears now.

"I'm... I'm so sorry Kurt," he said quietly, his eyes pleading, "I never meant to hurt you; it was before any of this – us – happened... I didn't know you then, but I felt so guilty... I just wanted to make it up to you as soon as I'd done it..."

"Oh... I get it," Kurt's voice was suddenly cold with realisation, "so, the only reason you're with me now, is because you felt _guilty_. So I'm just something to make you feel better about yourself, am I? You just pitied me, did you?"

"No! No, Kurt, that's not true," Puck hated himself for revealing the guilt part of the story. Couldn't he have just said sorry and that be that?

"I'm sure," Kurt grimaced, shaking with anger. Tears fell freely down his cheeks now – he should have known, it was _Puck_ after all. When had he ever been honest or faithful before? He felt like an idiot.

"Kurt!" Puck strode towards him, trying to take his hand, but Kurt had had enough.

"No, Puck." He said coolly.

"Kurt, you can't do this to me! I've said I'm sorry and I will keep saying it! A thousand more times if it will make it up to you! Come on... I love you," Puck was in tears, but Kurt just stood there staring at him as if he were a stranger.

Slowly, Kurt raised his hand, his face twisting into a grimace, his fingers curling into a fist.

Puck saw what was happening before Kurt's fist had even made contact with his face. He couldn't help it; he reacted instinctively. He saw Kurt's hand coming towards him; he grabbed it and forced it downwards, yanking Kurt's whole body down with it. He didn't even think, just acted out of self-defence: suddenly he had Kurt doubled over in pain, his arm twisted behind his back. But before Puck regained control of himself, the thing that had possessed him, supposedly out of defence of himself, threw Kurt to the floor; his body made a dull thud as it hit the cold ground.

Puck's hands immediately flew to his mouth as he realised what he had done; his whole body shook in fear and shock; he felt like he was going to vomit from the disgust of the pain he had just inflicted on the boy he loved. He kneeled down next to Kurt, his hands shaking as he reached out to try and help him up. Kurt turned his head, his eyes, filled with tears of betrayal and pain, fixed on Puck's sorry face.

"I'm... so- s-sorry, Kurt..." Puck heaved, his breathing shallow and erratic from crying so hard, but Kurt just stared at him.

"Leave," He forced a whisper from his bleeding lips, "now."

Puck got trembling to his feet, a hand still over his mouth.

"No... Kurt..." he whispered back, but he knew it was no use.

Head spinning, Puck did the only thing he could think of.

He ran.

He left the truck in the parking lot, and didn't stop running. It always ended like this, Puck thought to himself. Hell, it always began like this; his whole _life _was like this.

Constantly running.

Constantly running away... from himself.


	12. Chapter 12

**So I sound like a stuck record now, but AGAIN I am so sorry for the extremely overdue updates - I'm getting annoyed with myself now, so I can't imagine how you feel! :L I'm gonna try my hardest to get the next chapter out within the next week or so, so I can get back on track with updates. Anyway enough from me, I just want to say thankyou for the reviews, story alerts, favourites and everything :) Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy, review if you want to! :D**

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Chapter 12

Kurt heard Puck's fast footsteps fade away into the twilight as he lay very still on the ground. His face was hot and wet, tears stinging his cheeks; he lifted a trembling hand to wipe them away, but was dismayed to find blood mingled with the saltwater. He let out a sharp breath as he felt the grazes down the left side of his cheek.

_Well,_ he thought bitterly, _at least I have something to show for my pain; at least it's not all in my mind..._

More angry tears streaked down Kurt's ruined face – he could tell that he had only just scraped the surface of his emotions: he was angry now, so angry, but later... he knew that later it would turn to unbearable sadness and desolation. He'd better get home before that started...

Kurt slowly lowered himself from the ground; there didn't seem to be much damage, apart from the slightly bruised and winded chest, and a few scrapes on his forearms.

The light was fading fast now, something Kurt was, in a way, grateful for: at least the blood and tears could fall freely under the cover of darkness, where he could hide in its shadows. He turned to make his way along the path, but stopped abruptly as he saw Puck's truck still parked innocently on the verge.

It hit him like a battering ram, that first reminder of the boy who had broken his heart, and Kurt crumpled slightly under its weight.

_Come on_, he told himself, grimacing as more tears stung the cuts on his face, _just wait until you're home... you can cry and break down all you want then... just get there..._

He took a deep breath and pulled his eyes away from the offending object, hobbling slightly as he made his way home.

* * *

It was completely dark by the time Kurt rang his own doorbell. He waited nervously on the doorstep wondering how bad he looked; he could feel the tears drying in tracks over his skin, the blood congealing underneath. He hung back in the shadows as he heard his father come to the door.

"Hey Kurt, you're back earl-" but Burt stopped short as Kurt stepped into the bright porch, the overhead light throwing his face into sharp relief.

"What the hell happened to you?" Burt stared in horror.

"Dad, honestly, it's nothing," Kurt's voice had steadied now; the sobs subsiding, "I... I broke up with Puck, that's all."

"Did he do this to you?" Burt looked furious, already reaching for his coat.

"No! ...No," Kurt said firmly, a twinge of guilt and anger knotting his stomach, "I was just... I was crying about it on the way home... missed my footing because I couldn't see where I was going."

"Kurt..." Burt's face softened somewhat, but it was still questioning.

"It's not even that bad, just a graze," Kurt mumbled, "it's the stupidest thing..."

"Don't defend him, Kurt," Burt sounded disgusted, "if I find out he did this to you..." he took a deep breath, "you know I would go to the... ends of the earth to protect you!" He was gesturing wildly, still not fully comprehending the boy in front of him.

"I know Dad, just... just leave it... please," Kurt said quietly, "I just want to be alone..."

Burt sighed deeply.

"Alright... You better be telling me the truth though, Kurt. I won't have anyone, let alone someone close to you, hurting you like this... Are you sure it's not too bad? I'm not too clued up on this first aid business-" Burt had fallen into a panicked ramble, but Kurt just nodded, exhausted.

"I'm honestly fine, Dad," he said hoarsely, "it looks worse than it is... I'm going to get cleaned up... and then... go to bed." Kurt started towards the stairs down to his basement but his father called him back.

"Hey," Burt said softly, "come here," and he pulled him into a gentle hug.

"You know I love you, Kurt," Burt whispered into his son's hair, "and I'm right here if you need anything..."

"Yeah, Dad," Kurt replied, wetly, "I love you too..."

* * *

The tears struck again as soon as Kurt's head reached the pillow. A terrible aching began in his chest; his fists balled up the sheets underneath him as his body tensed, arching with each sob he had to contain. He tried not to make any noise, but a whimper or two slipped through his clenched mouth when it became almost too much to bear. Tears streamed from his eyes and into his hair; he couldn't see through the wetness, but maybe that was better. He didn't want to see anything, feel anything, remember anything...

His freshly cleaned cuts served a heavy reminder, however; they throbbed with every pulse of blood through his body, stinging from the saltwater. Kurt rolled over onto his side, curling himself into a tight ball, his face crumpled and soaking the pillow. He almost reached for his iPod, but he knew that music would make it worse; he couldn't handle material proof of what he was feeling at that moment...

Maybe silence was better...

The clock glowed 2:03am when Kurt's eyes next opened; he had cried himself into an uneasy sleep, but a prickly heat down the left side of his face had roused him. It didn't take long for the memories to come flooding back, and Kurt groaned internally. He didn't want to remember. His eyes were puffy, and his throat extremely dry; he felt as if he had cried every part of himself out... He needed water. Kurt got up slowly from the bed, his torso stiff from hitting the ground and his head pounding. He made his way silently up the stairs to the kitchen, trying not to wake Burt.

The sink resided just under a window that faced out onto the small garden and the never-ending night sky beyond. Kurt grabbed a glass from the sideboard and began to fill it with water, but as he did so he looked up and out of the big window.

The stars...

Glass hit metal with a sharp bang, water spilling everywhere. Kurt sank down on the surface before him, his head bent over the sink, a very familiar voice coming back to him...

"_We were looking up at the same stars... the same amazing balls of gas, burning away in the universe..."_

Puck's face flashed across Kurt's memory...

"_That fact would bring us together, bring us closer... A secret understanding..."_

Puck smiling. Holding hands with Kurt...

"_I want you to look up at the stars and think of me..."_

A hundred sweet kisses...

"_Knowing I'll be doing exactly the same... thinking of you..."_

The bombardment of memories was too much for Kurt, who sunk down on to the floor, hugging his knees, tears he didn't know he had enough strength to produce streaming from his tired eyes.

* * *

When Kurt next awoke, he was in his own bed, the duvet wrapped tightly around him and sunlight streaming in through the window. He wondered vaguely how he got there, but his question was answered as Burt came into view, looking concerned.

"Kurt? How... how do you feel?" Burt perched himself on the edge of the bed.

Kurt just groaned in response, making Burt smile a little.

"Uhh... What were you doing in the kitchen last night? I got up at 6 to get ready for work, and found you sleeping on the floor..." Burt laughed tentatively.

"Oh," Kurt's voice was hoarse, "I think I went to get some water... Must have just sat down for a minute... and fallen asleep... I guess."

Again, Burt didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the matter.

A thought suddenly struck Kurt though: "Why aren't you at work?"

"There was no way you were going to school today," Burt gave a humourless laugh, "I'm staying here to look after you. We can't have you falling asleep against the oven, can we?" Kurt gave a small smile, guilt pooling a little in his stomach.

"And also..." Burt's face fell a little; he looked nervous.

"What?" Kurt noticed the hesitation, frowning.

"Well... I think we might have to get your face checked out," Burt grimaced, as Kurt got quickly out of bed and strode over to the mirror.

In the bright light, he could finally see the damage that had been done.

A series of scrapes graced the side of his face, reaching from his temple right down to his chin. They weren't long, clean cuts though; the skin looked ragged, and Kurt was surprised at how deep some of them were. He didn't remember hitting the gravel that hard...

But that wasn't the worst part.

Kurt thought he had cleaned up quite well, but he'd obviously not done a good enough job. The skin around the cuts was swollen and shiny, taking on a slightly yellowish tinge... Some of the grazes were still weeping blood and... another clear fluid that stung Kurt's cheeks.

He turned back to his father in a panic.

"Dad...! What do I do?" Kurt's eyes were wild – he always took time to make sure his face was pristine, and now he looked like this? It was horrendous, never mind unnerving to look at... Was his face ruined forever?

"Calm down, Kurt," Burt got up to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks-"

"Not as bad as it looks? I'm disgusting!" Kurt was still in shock.

"Come on, get dressed," Burt made for the stairs, "I'm gonna take you to the hospital."

But Kurt turned back to the mirror, gently touching the ruined skin.

"I have to go out like this...?" he whispered to himself in horror.

* * *

Mr Schuester entered the choir room with a giant stack of sheet music, dumping it on the piano with a sigh. Before he could turn around though, he was met by a concerned-looking Mercedes.

"Mr Schue, do you know where Kurt is? I was meant to meet him outside, but he didn't arrive, and he's not answering his phone-"

"Yes, Mercedes," Mr Schue gestured to the seats, "please sit back down."

Mercedes closed her mouth sharply and went back to her seat, looking a little confused. She glared at Puck, who was still dressed in yesterday's clothes, looking worse for wear. He hadn't answered when she had asked him privately if he knew anything about Kurt. Puck just shook his head; it hurt too much to think about him...

He had spent the night wandering, crying, not knowing where he was going until he ended up at home at about 3 in the morning. He still didn't sleep though; the guilt and pain kept him laying wide awake, staring at the ceiling. He only came into school today to try and make things right with Kurt, to apologise... but he knew it wouldn't be enough. And now Kurt wasn't even here? Puck grimaced.

"Right, is everyone here?" Mr Schue started, glancing around the room, "Good. Well, I received a phone call this morning from Mr Hummel, and I think it's appropriate to pass on the message to all of you. Kurt's in the hospital..."

Mr Schue carried on talking, explaining, but Puck heard nothing.

Ice flowed through his veins, his heart beating tenfold.

He got silently up from his chair and walked out...


	13. Chapter 13

**It's become like a mantra for this fic now that I apologise for the extremely overdue update for every new chapter, but I really am sorry! Its almost finished now, just have to figue out how to end it! But thankyou all so much for sticking with it and all your lovely reviews :) Hope you enjoy, thanks for reading! Review if you feel like it :) Love to you all :D**

**A/N: The song used in this chapter is "Little Lion Man" by Mumford & Sons, who I am not affiliated with in any way, I just appreciate their talent :)**

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* * *

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Chapter 13

Mr Schue stared incredulously after Puck as he strode out of the room without a word.

"Puck!" he called after him, but Puck paid him no attention, "NOAH!" The other Glee club members glanced around the room in confusion; it was only Mercedes who started to suspect something, apprehension pooling in the pit of her stomach.

"Mr Schue, leave it," her voice shook a little as she spoke up, "I think I should go after him."

"No, Mercedes," Mr Schue said sharply, "everybody just stay here, I'll go and get Principal Figgins-"

"But Mr Schue!" Mercedes protested, getting up from her seat, "I need to speak to him." She spoke with such finality that Will stopped short, throwing his hands in the air, exasperated.

"FINE!" He turned away, running his hands through his hair, "Mercedes, you – and only you – can go after Puck, but you have to be back here in fifteen minutes or I am going to Principal Figgins."

And she left without a second glance, her heart racing.

* * *

Kurt's doctor was a blonde man in his late thirties; he had a kindly face, slightly crinkled around the eyes, but he smiled as he examined the cuts on Kurt's cheek.

"Don't worry, Mr Hummel," he wheeled his chair back, "your face will be just fine. I'm going to give you a course of antibiotics for the infection, and some cream for the outward grazes, ok?"

"And will my face be completely back to normal after all that?" Kurt still sounded concerned. The doctor gave a little chuckle.

"Yes, I'm almost certain of it. There's the small chance of some light scarring-" Kurt took a sharp intake of breath "-but if you look after your skin, it should be just fine."

"Thanks very much," Burt shook the doctor's hand, smiling in relief.

"No problem. Feel better, Kurt," the doctor waved them out of his office, Kurt still looking a little pale.

* * *

"Puck?" Mercedes jogged out to the parking lot behind McKinley, catching up with the figure trying to hulk away from her.

"Leave me alone," Puck called over his shoulder. He felt numb; there was no emotion left in his voice.

"Noah! You know something," Puck stopped in his tracks, "Puck... Do you know why Kurt's in the hospital?" Mercedes' voice lowered as she approached him. Puck's eyes gleamed with unshed tears, but he refused to admit it, to himself, to anyone.

"Yes, I know," he said bitterly, his voice dangerously quiet, "please leave me. I- I can't do this anymore..." Puck's voice cracked on the last word, but he shook his head, already striding off of the premises. Mercedes felt anger bubble inside her chest, but with no evidence, what could she possibly do? She reached for her phone again, punching the green button as the cursor hovered over Kurt's number. Again, there was no answer.

* * *

Kurt was glad he'd left his phone at home whilst visiting the hospital; when he returned, the little screen read "23 missed calls, 17 new message(s)." He sighed, grimacing before flipping his phone open and seeing the damage that had been done. The texts were from Puck and Mercedes, with a few here and there from Rachel and Tina sending him their best for the hospital. He deleted them all, only sending a short text to Mercedes:

_Everything's fine, don't worry. Puck and I broke up. Please don't say anything to him, or me, I'd just rather forget it. Thanks, love you xoxo_

He didn't even glance at the messages from Puck, deleting all the voicemails as if he could erase the memory of him if there was no material evidence left to look at. He knew it was stupid, but it was the best he could do right now.

And with that, Kurt settled down for a few days hibernation, letting his face heal before he allowed anyone to grace him with their presence...

* * *

"Welcome back, Kurt!" Mr Schue smiled as Kurt entered the choir room four days later.

Kurt had been psyching himself up for this moment; the moment he would see Puck's face for the first time since- well... since. He knew it would hurt bad, hurt more than the pain he felt every time he declined the many phone calls from Puck. He knew it was immature, but he couldn't face the conversations, the apologies, the excuses...

As far as Kurt was concerned, their relationship was built on a lie and there was nothing he could do to change that. He would have to get over it.

Of course, he was nowhere near that point yet: the loss still ripped a gaping hole in his chest, especially at night when his mind tended to wander through memories of Puck like he was watching an old movie play out before his eyes. And every time, the film ended with the cold, hard reality of his face hitting gravel, and then the tears returned...

Despite his psyching, nothing could have prepared Kurt for how deep it would cut when his eyes met Puck's as he entered the room. Breath caught in his throat, and it felt like the pit had fallen out of his stomach, leaving nothing but a cold, writhing twist of anger, guilt and pain. The tears stung the back of his eyes, he could feel them threatening to fall, but he blinked them back before anyone could notice. He broke eye contact with Puck quickly, but not quick enough not to notice the flicker of emotion in Puck's otherwise empty eyes. _W__hatever_, Kurt thought, _he doesn't care...Let's just get this over with..._

"Ok, everybody," Mr Schue was unaware of the silent exchange between the two boys, "I thought we'd start by hearing suggestions for songs we can use to increase our repertoire, in case we are called on for charity events or such like. And who knows, if they're good enough, they might even make it to the set list for Regionals!" Rachel raised her hand at once, starting up out of her chair, but Puck suddenly looked up.

"Mr Schue," he said urgently, "I have a song I'd like to sing." Kurt's stomach clenched uncomfortably; he knew he couldn't handle this, some stupid proclamation of love through some stupid song... He clutched his messenger bag a little tighter, ready to make a run for it if things got too much.

Rachel looked indignant, "Well, too late Puckerman. I had my hand up first so-"

"No... Go ahead, Puck," Mr Schue looked intrigued, gesturing to the performance space in front of the students.

Puck shoved a chair into the middle of the room with his foot, and grabbed a guitar as he strode past. He sat down with a long, unreturned look at Kurt before dropping his gaze to the frets. He began to play chords with a quiet intensity, the tempo was fast but steady; it had a kind of folk-y feel to it.

Kurt didn't recognise the song.

Puck's voice was hoarse and full of emotion as he began to sing...

_Weep for yourself, my man  
You'll never be what is in your heart  
Weep Little Lion Man,  
You're not as brave as you were at the start  
Rate yourself and rake yourself,  
Take all the courage you have left  
Wasted on fixing all the problems  
That you made in your own head _

Kurt looked on uncomfortable, sharing an awkward glance with Mercedes. So much for that stupid profession of love... This was almost offensive: "not as brave" and "problems you have made in your own head?" At least it was making it easier to hate him... No. Hate was the wrong word. Kurt wasn't sure of a lot of things, but he knew that he could never bring himself to hate Puck, even after all he had done. As Puck launched into the chorus, however, Kurt was hit hard by the gravity of the lyrics...

_But it was not your fault but mine  
And it was your heart on the line  
I really fucked it up this time  
Didn't I, my dear?  
Didn't I, my..._

Kurt took a sharp intake of breath, feeling his half-healed face redden unashamedly. He could feel the emotion emanating from Puck's voice as he raised his eyes to gaze at him for the first time during the song. There was only one word for it; Puck's eyes screamed yearning.

Mr Schue had been enjoying the song, nodding his head with a little smile on his face, before the profanity left Puck's lips.

"PUCK! That is not an appropriate word to be using in a classroom-" but he faltered, losing his argument as he saw the tears that had started to stream from Puck's eyes...__

Tremble for yourself, my man,  
You know that you have seen this all before  
Tremble Little Lion Man,  
You'll never settle any of your scores  
Your grace is wasted in your face,  
Your boldness stands alone among the wreck  
Now learn from your mother or else spend your days  
_Biting your own neck _

The tears fell freely now, but Puck kept his voice steady, a look of determination etched into his features. The song increased in intensity, and Kurt didn't know how much more he could handle. The rest of the Glee club looked on, dumbfounded.

__

_But it was not your fault but mine  
And it was your heart on the line  
I really fucked it up this time  
Didn't I, my dear?_

_Didn't I, my dear..._

The last line faded away into the silence, Puck and Kurt never breaking eye contact...


	14. Chapter 14

**Well, this is the last chapter! I want to thank everybody who has stuck with this fic, through my incredible lack of updates and endless amounts apologies. I am sorry it has taken so long to get through it, but it is finally finished, and I'm pleased with the conclusion - I hope you are too! Thankyou so much for all your reviews, favourites and story alerts, it really means a lot :) I hope you enjoy the final instalment, review if you want to! Just, thankyou. I can't say it enough :)**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

The silence in the choir room was deafening. A few students exchanged confused glances, frowning at each other, not understanding the situation that had unfolded before them. Kurt continued to stare at Puck, who could not stand the contact anymore and had lowered his eyes to floor. A sparse tear trickled down Kurt's cheek.

It was Mr Schuester who broke the silence, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Would you two like to talk alone for minute?" He said quietly, glancing between the two broken boys in front of him.

"Thankyou," Kurt's voice faltered a little, but he rose from his chair and made directly for Puck. Slowly, he reached for Puck's hand, gently brushing their fingertips together until Puck looked up, a heart-wrenching hope pooling in the dark depths of his eyes. Kurt closed his fingers around Puck's and led him out of the classroom in silence.

Mr Schue exhaled deeply, staring at the floor.

Kurt led Puck out of the room and into the boys' bathroom. After checking under the stall doors and making sure they were alone, Kurt turned to Puck, his eyes welling up again.

"Puck..." Kurt began, but words escaped him; he stared at the silently crying boy in front of him, opening and closing his mouth but not a sound came out.

Puck gave him a long, heartbroken look, before launching himself at the smaller boy and enveloping him in a tight hug. Puck knew that maybe it wasn't welcome, maybe he was forcing himself upon Kurt, but at that moment he didn't care. He needed this; he needed the contact he had craved ever since he'd left Kurt lying in the gravel. The memory cut through his heart like a cold knife, and he sobbed into Kurt's shoulder.

"I- I'm... I'm so s-sorry Kurt," he choked out between the tears, "I n-never meant it to be this way. It started as a stupid prank I'll admit it, but I promise you... I p-promise I never did anything out of pity. I l-love you, Kurt. I meant _every _word I said."

Kurt couldn't help but wrap his arms around Puck, tough-guy Puck who had just poured his heart out in front of him. He'd never seen him so vulnerable; the tears soaking into his Marc Jacobs sweater were testament to that.

Puck pulled back, gently holding on to Kurt's upper arm as he stared him in the face. He held him so gently, as if he was afraid of breaking him again, afraid of his own strength.

"Look at me," Puck whispered, "I am truly so sorry. Please... I love you..." His expression became desperate as Kurt continued to just look at him, conflict flickering behind his sparkling blue-green eyes.

Kurt took a deep breath as he reached up and brushed a tear from Puck's cheek, his own tears falling now.

Puck softened into the touch, closing his eyes. Why couldn't he just live this moment, with Kurt's hand on his face and his breath on his skin, forever?

"Look, Puck..." Kurt began, dropping his hand from Puck's face and watching the pain return to his face as soon as he broke the contact, "I... I love you too, but-"

"No... No 'but.' Please..." Puck dropped his gaze to the floor and a tear slid off the end of his nose.

"Listen, Noah," Kurt's voice softened, "I love you, but you have to understand that I can't just _get over_ what happened just like that... I need... I need some _time... _to sort my thoughts out... get back on track..."

Puck's face crumpled, but Kurt shook his head.

"It's not the end, Noah... I just wish we could start again..." Kurt rested his forehead against Puck's in despair and for the longest moment they stood like that, silent, sharing space and breath and tears.

"We- We can start again, K-Kurt..." Puck's eyes gleamed with hope and yet more unshed tears, "please..."

"Not yet, Noah, I'm sorry..." Kurt pulled away, dropping Puck's hand and watching it swing lifelessly by his side, "Not yet..."

And with that, Kurt turned and left the bathroom without looking back...

* * *

It had been two weeks since their confrontation in the bathroom, and they hadn't talked since.

Life went on. The sun went down, and came up again the next morning, but that was all there was. Puck's days had become bland, events fading into grey, a smile never gracing his lips. He longed for the sweet release of sleep, but found himself dreaming of Kurt who always danced some way out of his reach. Every morning he would wake feeling a little more empty than the previous day...

Kurt lived in a state of nervous tension and guilt. He knew he'd made the right decision, but the image of Puck's face, crumpled and heartbroken was ingrained on his memory, flashing up whenever he closed his eyes. By the end of the two weeks, however, he had started to come to terms with what had happened. He could replay the events over and over in his mind, right back to when his Dad took the ill-fated phone call to his and Puck's conversation in the boys' bathroom.

It was slowly starting to come together and rational thought returned...

* * *

Puck was mindlessly flicking through channels on the small TV in his bedroom when his phone vibrated, notifying him of a text message. He turned his blank gaze to the phone beside him, no emotion registering on his face, and opened the message.

_I think I'm ready to start again..._

It was from Kurt.

Puck leapt to his feet, holding the screen an inch from his face to make sure he'd read correctly. Did this mean what he thought it meant? He grabbed his beaten old jacket and pulled it on as he thundered down the stairs and out into his front yard.

"Noah!" his mother called out of the kitchen window, alarmed, "Noah? Where are you going?" But he paid her no attention, fiddling with the key in the lock of his truck until the door swung open violently and he scrambled to get inside. He sped off down the road, the first ghost of a smile to return to his face in weeks...

* * *

Kurt waited anxiously for Puck's reply, his phone slick with sweat as he clutched it feverishly in his palm. But none came, and Kurt started to panic. Maybe Puck had gotten over it? Maybe he didn't care for Kurt anymore? Had he taken too long over the decision? Had he missed his chance? Fear and disappointment started to pool together in his stomach, and Kurt bit his lip. He flipped open his phone and was about to tap in an apologetic "forget about it" follow-up text, but then the doorbell rang.

Kurt's heart leapt for a moment – could it be? He tried not to get his hopes up, but there was a certain urgency in which he made his way to the front door. He wasn't quite sure why, but he took a deep breath before opening it.

Puck stood outside, framed by the doorway like a portrait in a painting. He smiled, but there was still a question in his eyes. Kurt broke into a grin, bringing a hand to his mouth in surprise. Puck composed himself, looking at the floor before bringing his eyes up again to meet Kurt's.

"...Start again?" he breathed, looking hopeful.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Puck's neck, standing on his tiptoes to look him right in the eye.

"Start again," he smiled, before closing the small distance between them, and bringing their lips together in a kiss that said everything they needed to.

The taste, the scent, the touch of Puck's lips came flooding back to Kurt as he kissed him deeply, slowly. They finally had all the time in the world. Puck's hands came to rest on Kurt's hips, and they broke apart slowly; they stared into each other's eyes, drinking each other up, making up for all those missed moments.

They stayed like that for a long while, before breaking into identical, ecstatic grins.

They giggled softly, revelling in their new beginning...


End file.
